A Song for Severus
by Ms-Figg
Summary: SSHg A haunting tune reminds Hermione of her difficulties with absent lover, Severus Snape. Bellatrix LeStrange has hatched a dastardly plot that threatens the wizarding world. SSHG, DMOFC, RLOFC Lemons, Anal, Violence, Adventure
1. Part 1

**_A/N: When this story was first written, it was as a one-shot, just to get a bit of poetry in. It had no erotica, no storyline. Then I decided to add Draco as a follow-up chapter, so it became a two-shot. Then, the readers requested more . . . some heat between their favorite couple. So I gave them a hot "during the party" scene between a rather starved Snape and a reluctant but equally starved Hermione. Then they wanted more. So there is no initial development and many felt that Severus was little more than a rapist at best and Draco little more than a stalker. Lol. I took some heat for this one, but I kept working at it and finally got a groove going with it. It gets pretty interesting, featuring Draco with an OFC in a staring role as well as Remus Lupin with a muggle OFC, though it is primarily SS/HG. No cure for Remus this time though and Rubin Fezwig makes his debut in this story. He was also in "Becoming Familiar." I recycle my OC's like I do the canon characters with slight changes, if any. There are also two young original characters and my favorite crazy witch, Bellatrix LeStrange. So if you don't mind the background unfolding during the story itself, take a look. Thanks._**

* * *

**A Song for Severus Part One**

Hermione Granger sat alone as the Valentine's Day celebration went on all around her. Harry and Ron were slow dancing with their girlfriends, Mora and Dora. They were twins…blonde-haired, blue-eyed and curvaceous. They reminded Hermione of muggle Barbie dolls. There were a lot of whispers at Headquarters about what those four were up to behind closed doors. Seemed a bit of swapping was going on. Hermione didn't doubt it. Both Harry and Ron were pretty twisted.

Since Voldemort's death two years ago, life had been much better and brighter for the wizarding world. Albus insisted on throwing this party for the Order. The living room had been magically altered to ballroom size, though the size of Grimauld Place itself didn't change at all. There had to be about four hundred people partying.

Although her heart should have been light for this occasion, it was quite heavy, because Severus Snape was not in attendance. A year ago, he and Hermione discovered they had quite an attraction for each other. It was a sudden occurrence, startling and powerful as they worked on a potion together in the Professor's lab. Hermione was earning extra credit towards her Potions degree. She was distracted, accidentally adding a wrong ingredient to the brew and the cauldron had blown up. Luckily, Severus heard the warning whine of the ill-mixed ingredients and pulled Hermione away in time. She could have been killed by the shrapnel.

The Potions Master had raged at her as he held her protectively in his embrace, then suddenly kissed her passionately. She had been unable/unwilling to stop him and he took her on the floor of his lab, his robes spread under them as he possessed the young witch, taking both her virginity and her heart. From that night on, they became secret lovers, though Albus was aware of their involvement. He was aware of everything it seemed.

But Severus was away on Order business right now, and there was no telling when he would return. He was always very closed-mouthed about what he did when he went on these excursions. But his first act whenever he returned was to find Hermione and make passionate love to her as if re-grounding himself in his new world.

Hermione was torn about the way the dark wizard acted. He was so secretive, so manipulative. She suspected Severus lied to her more often than not about his activities, and told herself many times it would be better if she ended her relationship with him, but then…he would take her so passionately and desperately on his return that she felt she could never ever leave him.

Hermione watched as the band "Dirty Magic" ended the song and the lead male singer moved to the background. A slender, pale witch in torn red robes with beautiful dark eyes and short-cropped spiked black hair walked up to the magically enhanced microphone. She held a rose in one hand and looked incredibly sad as she gripped the mike and the band struck up a haunted sounding ballad.

The stage darkened, a single spotlight focused on the witch as she began to sing. The students started dancing, but soon stopped to just watch and listen to the witch as she crooned in a soulful voice that didn't seem to belong to her.

Hermione was enthralled as she watched her, tears beginning to form in her eyes as the singer's words pulled at her soul, echoing her deepest feelings about the dark wizard she loved.

_At any given time you're leaving me  
a wicked smile and gleam in your eyes.  
At any given moment, deceiving me,  
I'm so in love with your lies.  
In any given hour you take me in your arms,  
brutalize my heart with  
the darkness of your charms._

_Then in the dark of night I lay,  
wishing you would go away,  
Your whispers in my head,  
your shadow in my bed._

_At any given time, you're killing me  
slowly with the magic you wield.  
At any given moment thrilling me,  
cutting deep until I'm healed.  
In any given hour you possess  
demanding answers…  
until my soul's confessed_

_Then in the dark of night I lay,  
wishing you would go away,  
Your whispers in my head,  
your shadow in my bed._

_Then in the dark of night I lay  
my red bloom drained to gray,  
You rise black & then you're gone…  
behind your rose, a thorn._

The music stopped and the light dimmed, bathing the witch in darkness, her final note echoing around the room then softly dying away. Everyone let out their breaths and broke out in applause, but when the lights came back on, the artist was gone. Only the red rose lay abandoned on the stage floor.

Hermione was still clapping and blinking back tears when she felt a presence. She looked up. There, across the room stood Severus, his black eyes resting on her soberly. He had been gone nearly a month and entered the room at the start of the song and quietly watched Hermione's reaction to it.

He mouthed one word at her.

"Come," then disappeared into the crowd.

Her stomach full of lacewing flies, Hermione slowly rose and followed the Potions Master as if mesmerized.

Once again it was time to be pricked by his thorn.

* * *

Malina, stripped of her tattered red robes, her slender body now dressed in a black tank top and black stretch jeans, walked away from Grimauld Place's celebration, her dark eyes resting on the sidewalk as she slowly strolled the lonely muggle street, her wand sticking out her back pocket. 

Miles, the lead singer of "Dirty Magic" had asked her to sing a set with them, begged her really…coming to her flat and refusing to leave until she agreed.

"You're closing yourself off, love…you could be a star. A fucking star. But all you do is sit here and write these fantastically sorrowful love songs by candlelight and brood. Come sing with us," he said, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the witch.

"I don't feel like it, Miles," she replied, hugging her knees.

"You never feel like it until you open your mouth and all that beauty comes out," the wizard said. "You've got to get out of this flat. You're dying here."

Miles worked on her until she finally capitulated.

"Just one song. One. It's new and doesn't have a title," she said, handing him the music. Miles scanned it, his blonde brows rising.

"Damn," he said, looking at her. "You've got it bad for some bloke, Malina. Who is he?"

"No one. He's not in my life anymore and I don't want to talk about him," she said, her dark eyes going cold. "He's not good for me."

"He's good fodder for songs though," Miles said, standing up. "We'll pick you up at eight, Valentine's night.

So she went, she sang and she left. Malina didn't want the applause. It was empty. Everything in her life was empty.

She walked past a small alley between the houses, preparing to apparate to the wizarding section of London, when a voice called out from the darkness.

"Malina," it said softly.

Malina stiffened for a moment, then began to walk quickly.

"Leave me alone. I told you it was over," she said over her shoulder.

"It can never be over between us, Malina. I love you," the voice said, drawing closer.

Malina bit her lip at those words.

Two hands gripped her shoulders gently, stopping her and pulling her back against a strongly built body. She felt strong arms slip around her waist and a pair of soft lips graze her earlobe.

"You miss me. I know you do, Malina. I know you do," Draco Malfoy breathed, nuzzling the witch's neck. "I've only just returned. I need you."

Malina allowed herself to relax against the blonde wizard, closing her eyes as she felt his warmth against her.

"Returned from where, Draco? You never tell me when you're leaving or when you're coming back. You're gone for weeks sometimes. I can't live like that. With all the secrecy. With all the lies," she whispered.

"I love you, Malina…that's all I can tell you," Draco said, "I know you can feel it. I won't let you go. You are the only thing that makes my life bearable."

Malina turned in his arms and looked into those beautiful gray eyes.

"What is it about your life that is so unbearable, Draco? Just tell me. I won't betray you," she said to him, her heart melting as she looked into his handsome face. Gods, she was so weak for him.

"Everything but you, Malina," Draco replied softly, lowering his head and kissing her gently, pulling at her lower lip before tasting her heat.

Malina felt herself ignite, her body beginning to quake with desire. Draco could always do this to her. Love her…leave her…hurt her…then love her again. She thought she could fight it this time, break it off and stick to her wands

Draco growled softly as he felt her reaction and deepened the kiss, pulling Malina tight against his body. She could feel his arousal, his hardened organ pressing into her belly. The wizard pulled away from her mouth, his eyes smoldering.

"Come with me to the Manor," he breathed at her, "You want me as badly as I want you, Malina. I've missed you. You aren't through with me. I won't let you be through with me."

Malina looked up at him, her hunger battling with her logic…her love for the dark wizard battling with her reason.

"I can't," she said weakly, so aware of his body, of his desire.

Draco scowled, his nostrils flaring.

"You can…and you will, Malina," he said with a growl, pulling Malina into another passionate kiss and disapparating with her to Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Hermione could just make out the billow of Severus' robes as the wizard strode ahead of her to a seemingly blank wall in the makeshift ballroom. The Potions Master pressed the wall and a door opened and he passed through. Hermione followed, entering the hallway of Grimauld Place. The Potions Master stood there, his black eyes intense. When Hermione closed the door behind her, he placed several powerful wards on the entrance, then strode toward the witch, wrapping his arms around her and backing her against the door, pressing his body against hers. He cast a silencing spell around them and dropped his wand to the floor. 

"I've missed you witch," he hissed, covering her mouth in a searing kiss, his hands sliding over her body hungrily as he moved against her. He lifted her, his mouth falling to her throat, licking and sucking as he pressed his erection between her legs, Hermione gasping from the ardor of his attack.

Severus ran his hands down her thighs and began to lift her dress up around her hips, baring her legs.

"Severus…Severus wait," Hermione hissed as the wizard slid against her, his breathing harsh.

"I can't wait," he breathed, capturing her mouth again as his long fingers slid between her thighs, shifting her knickers aside and petting her gently, Hermione letting out a groan of pleasure.

"Severus, we shouldn't…not here," she said, her body protesting her words as the Potions Master brought his hand to his mouth and tasted her, his nostrils flaring. He set Hermione down on the floor and began to unbutton his robes quickly, his dark eyes hot.

"I've waited more than a month for this, witch. A month for you, Hermione. All I could think about in my quiet moments was your kiss, your touch, your scent, the feel of you wrapped around me…I won't wait any longer. I can't," he breathed passionately, his words igniting Hermione as if she were one huge torch.

"Oh gods, Severus," she gasped as a gush of desire rolled through her. She couldn't resist him when he was like this.

"Yessss," he hissed, pulling his robes apart and going to work on his trousers, unfastening them and pulling them open.

The Potions Master pulled his trousers along with his boxers down, revealing his lean, muscular thighs, his long, thick member springing out, the head purple, the pale shaft hard and pulsing. Hermione looked down at his organ, her eyes smoldering as he reached under her dress and pulled her knickers down. She stepped out of one side, the thin blue fabric hooked on one ankle as Severus, his dark eyes locked to her face, gathered the witch's dress around her waist.

"It feels as if I've waited centuries to have you again," he said to her softly as he lifted Hermione up against the door, hooking her knees over his arms so she was spread before him.

"Help me," he breathed at her.

Hermione's small hand reached between her legs and wrapped around his shaft. It was hot and throbbing against her palm, and another gush rolled out of the witch as she positioned the head of her lover's erection against her entrance with a moan. A part of her knew this was wrong, so wrong, having sex in a hallway of Order Headquarters with crowds of people just on the other side of the door. But damn, it felt so right. She needed him.

Severus thrust into her with a grunt, his face contorting in pleasure as he buried himself once again inside her delicious body, Hermione keening as he parted her, the caress of his penetration filling her completely.

Severus held still for a moment as Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes soft as he rested his forehead against hers, panting slightly. After a moment, Severus whispered, "Comfort me, Hermione. Only you can bring me comfort."

Severus locked his mouth to Hermione and kissed her deeply as he began to move rhythmically, stroking her hot, moist sleeve hungrily, the witch sliding up and down the wall as he possessed her, losing himself and for the moment…his memories in her acceptance, in her love. Hermione was whimpering as the Potions Master took her, her body rising and falling against the doorway as he thrust, his ardor taking him over.

Severus pulled away from her mouth and looked into her eyes for a moment, his own eyes dark and vulnerable, almost pleading.

"I need all of you," he groaned burying his face in her hair and letting loose, driving into her almost brutally, Hermione's body arching off the door as he took her with abandon, gasping, groaning and hissing his pleasure as he plunged and plundered the sweetness Hermione held for only him.

Hermione cried out from his power, her shrill voice washing over him, a siren's song drawing him in. but there was no mast to be lashed to…no one to hold him back from the ocean of her being, and the wizard arched into her, whirling, plunging, bucking, his shirt beneath his robes sticking to his pale body from perspiration as he claimed what was his again.

He let out a little cry when Hermione's body locked down on him, clutching and pulsing around his swollen member, her liquid fire gushing over him, wetting his loins as she orgasmed, calling out his name. The Potions Master pulled back from her hair, strands of it sticking to his face as he claimed her mouth again, his own release approaching.

Feeling himself about to explode, Severus pulled Hermione away from the door, not missing a stroke as the witch's legs wrapped around him reflexively. Severus plunged into her desperately, grimacing and trying to savor the last vestiges of her softness, her heat, her sweet surrender.

Suddenly he toppled over the brink, pleasure thrumming through him, a hot stream of pulsing bliss pouring into the witch, the wizard filling her with his own fire as he strained against her, groaning and shuddering, his mouth still locked to hers, their tongues still entwined in a deep, double kiss as they flowed together, then apart, hearts pounding, intoxicated by their connection and release.

Severus continued to hold Hermione against him, kissing her tenderly as he deflated inside the witch, loving the way she quaked against him as she returned to earth. What a beautiful, passionate young witch she was…and gods, how she accepted him. It was as if he held all the beauty in the world in his arms, and though he was spent, he was loathe to release her. It was only in her arms he could show his humanity, his frailty, his weaknesses. There was no place for such things in the real world. Hermione was his escape and his solace…the one person on earth who knew for certain he had feelings and emotions other than cruelty, malice and hatefulness.

And they were all for her.

Hermione held on to Severus, soothed and comforted by his continued kisses. She had never dreamed the cold, sarcastic Potions Master had so much passion, or the ability to be tender. When he took her the first time it was as if a floodgate had opened up in the wizard, at first he was near brutal, overcome with desire…but when he looked down and saw the blood…Severus realized she had never been with a man before and became gentle…almost loving, talking to her softly, apologizing even as he continued, his dark eyes filled with an emotion she had never seen in their depths before as he brought her to her first real release.

Then, for a week afterwards, he became cold and distant…barking instructions at her and looking as if he wanted to hex her constantly as they worked together in his lab. But Hermione was determined to finish out her time with him and earn her credits. Then one evening, when her work was completed and she tried to go…he stopped her and after a bit of hedging, confessed he wanted her for his lover. He didn't say he loved her, but promised to be kind to her…as kind as was possible. The dark wizard didn't give her a chance to tell him no, but overcame her with kisses and caresses, his silken voice and dark eyes working their magic, and she found herself in his bed, the wizard doing things to her body she never dreamed she'd allow any man to do with her blessing. Now…now she belonged to him, body and soul. And sometimes…it hurt to be so in love with him.

But not now. Not with him holding her as he was, his heart beating against her own, his lips soft against her mouth, the scent of their spent passion in the air. As separated as she felt from the wizard these past few weeks, once again he made her feel whole. Gods, she was so weak.

Severus gave Hermione a final kiss, withdrew from her body with a sigh and gently set her down. Then he bent and picked up his wand, scourgifying her then himself, before fixing his clothing as Hermione pulled on her knickers and lowered her dress. She looked up at him as he buttoned his robes. His dark eyes met hers.

"Do you want to stay at the party?" he asked her.

Hermione shook her head.

"No, I want to go home," she replied, "and for you to come with me."

Severus studied her for a moment. He still had to report to Dumbledore.

"You go on ahead. I have something I need to do, then I will come," he said, scowling slightly at the pain in Hermione's eyes as he replied.

The problem was Severus had given her this same answer numerous times before and never showed up. She waited for hours before falling into a restless sleep. He was sorry about that, but it couldn't be helped. Other situations came up suddenly that had to be addressed. But he really planned to join her tonight.

"You're lying to me again, Severus," Hermione said softly, "It would be better to say you aren't coming than to make me think you are and then not showing up."

"I'm not lying to you, Hermione. I will be there…I promise," he said.

Hermione's eyes hardened.

"Don't! Severus, don't make me anymore promises," she said, her voice catching. "I'm just going to go. If you come…you come. If you don't…"

Hermione's voice faded.

Severus sighed. He didn't know how to fix this. All he knew was that when he went away, the most important thing he had to do when he returned was find Hermione and reclaim her, hoping she would feel the depth of his desire for her and continue to accept him. He didn't want to keep secrets from her, but he had to. He didn't want to hide his relationship with her either, but he had to do that also. If he was stronger, he would have left the witch alone, but Severus had found such solace and acceptance in Hermione…he was too selfish to release her and return to his lonely life.

"I will be there," he said to the witch, who turned away from him and walked (a bit gap-legged) around the enclosed living room, which was its normal size from this vantage point, out of the foyer and into the night.

Severus watched her go. There was nothing he could do until he talked to Albus. He doubted Draco had yet made his report. More than likely he was aware Malina had performed tonight and tried to head her off before she got away. Malina was quite good at disappearing. The Potions Master was glad Hermione was not that way. Sometimes Draco had to search for weeks to find his witch. At least Hermione was predictable.

So far.

Severus cleared the wards from around the door, removed the silencing spell and opened it, walking through the partying guests in search of Albus. Once he was finished with him, he would go to Hermione's flat and do his best to make the witch happy for the time he was with her.

As he walked through the dancing throng, the Potions Master looked around at the cheerful crowd. Everyone was so happy and exuberant. But they would be. Ignorance was bliss after all...

They all believed the war was over.

* * *

Panting heavily, Draco dropped to the mattress, pulling Malina down and spooning around her slender, naked body, kissing her neck and shoulders appreciatively. 

The witch shuddered against him slightly. Gods, he'd done it to her again…and again, she loved it. As she lay there, she remembered the first time she'd met Draco, in the music shop she occasionally worked in when she needed extra galleons.

Draco had walked in, immaculately dressed in Slytherin green robes, his father's emerald and platinum ring on his finger, and silver-tipped cane in his hand. He walked up to the counter where Malina was busily counting some new discs. She looked up at him.

"Can I help you?" she asked the wizard politely.

Draco's gray eyes washed over the witch. She was slim and pale, with short black hair and expressive dark eyes. Her mouth was small and full. She wore black lipstick. Malina looked quite dark. Draco liked dark.

"Yes. I'd like to purchase 'The Black Cauldron' album by Dirty Magic," he replied, arching one eyebrow at the witch.

Malina put down her quill and walked around the counter.

"The Dirty Magic section is this way," she said walking down an aisle that had albums on shelves, Draco following, watching her as she walked. Malina wasn't dressed in robes but in a black, short-sleeved blouse, black stretch denims and black trainers. On one pale arm she had a tattoo of a rose with a single thorn, a drop of blood on its point and a small pool of blood beneath it.

She stopped in front of a section of albums and began thumbing through it, Draco standing behind her.

"The Black Cauldron?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Yes," replied Draco, stepping a bit closer, intruding in the witch's space.

Malina found the album, spun around and found herself almost face to face with Draco. Malina was tall, at least five foot nine. Draco was six foot tall.

"Here's your album," she said, trying to step back a bit, but there wasn't much room because of the shelves of albums.

Draco smiled and slowly took the album out of her hand. He looked at it a moment, then at her.

"Thank you," he said, his gray eyes resting on her with interest. Malina slid sideways and walked back to the counter, Draco smirking after her. He walked up to the counter and slid the album across it. Malina took it.

"Will that be all, sir?" she asked him.

Draco studied her for a moment.

"What is your name?" he asked the witch.

"Malina," she replied.

"Malina," Draco repeated, "That is a very pretty name. I only need one more thing…" he said to the witch. "For you to accompany me to lunch."

The witch looked at the pureblood, rather shocked. He was handsome, but not her type of wizard at all. He was obviously aristocracy, blonde-haired, cultured. It was easy to see they moved in different circles. They had nothing in common.

"I'm afraid not," she said, lowering her eyes and ringing up his purchase.

Draco scowled. Witches rarely declined his invitations. They always jumped on them. He was good-looking and rich. Witches loved him.

"Why not?" he asked her.

Malina looked at him.

"By the way you're dressed, I assume you're a pureblood with a pedigree," Malina said to him.

Draco nodded.

"Well, I'm a muggle-born. A poor one. We have nothing in common," she said.

Draco looked at Malina. A muggle-born? So what? She was lovely.

"I don't agree with you. We do have something in common. You're a witch and I'm a wizard. We are…compatible," he said with a bit of a purr.

Malina looked at him. It was easy to see what the handsome wizard wanted. Trim. By the look of him, he probably got plenty. Well, she knew how to make him back off.

"You make it a habit of openly dating mudbloods, sir?" she said, shocking Draco at her use of the derogatory term. "Or are you one of the enlightened purebloods that sprung up after Voldemort's death…the type that claims 'parentage doesn't matter,' and tries to prove your tolerance by bedding muggle-born witches at every opportunity?"

Ouch.

"Parentage is the last thing on my mind when I meet a lovely witch," Draco replied evenly.

Now Malina arched an eyebrow at him as she accepted his money and bagged the album.

"Oh. So what is the first thing?" she asked him.

"Getting to know her," he responded, "Preferably over a meal."

Malina handed him the bag.

"Well, I'm sorry Mr…" she began

"Draco. Draco Malfoy," Draco said by way of introduction.

Malina cocked her head at him.

"Well I'm sorry, Draco. We are not allowed to fraternize with the store's patrons," she lied. "It could cost me my job. Good day and thank you for shopping at the Music Symposium."

And she dismissed him…just like that.

Draco exited the store, frowning. She had turned him down because he was a pureblood. Reverse discrimination at the least. The witch thought he just wanted to bed her. Well, she had been right about that…but still it rankled Draco that she turned him down cold. He didn't believe for one minute that her job prevented her from going out with him.

Draco was a young man used to getting what he wanted. Now that his father and mother were securely domiciled in Azkaban, he was the Lord of the Manor. He had no problems getting witches. All he had to do was invite them to dinner and they all jumped. Landing Draco would mean a life of luxury. Even if he had been ugly as sin, he would have still had his pick of witches.

But Malina wasn't impressed by his wealth or standing. As much as he liked to be admired, something about that appealed to the dark wizard. If he could win a witch like that over, he could be sure it wasn't his wealth that attracted her. It would be him.

Malina would be a challenge, and Draco needed something other than his work for the Order to challenge him, take up his thoughts and his time. Bedding willing witch after willing witch became tiresome. They all ran together. Not one stood out.

Malina neither looked nor acted like any of the women he was involved with. Something radiated from her…something deep. He could tell she had substance. She certainly had heart, the blatant way she addressed him. She didn't show him deference because he was aristocracy. He believed she talked to him as she would have any randy wizard. He liked that. It was different.

Draco decided right then and there he would try and win the witch over.

When he next visited the Music Symposium, Malina wasn't there. A smiling blonde witch was behind the counter, and she made it quite clear she found him attractive.

"How can I help you, sir?" she asked him, leaning over the counter so her ample cleavage showed. Draco had no doubt he could take the witch to the back of the store and shag her if he wanted to. But he didn't want to. He was here for Malina.

"I'm looking for a witch that works here by the name of Malina," he said to the clerk, his eyes washing over her cleavage for a moment. It was rather nice…

"Oh. Malina isn't a regular employee. She only comes in now and then, mostly to cover when someone is out," the clerk replied.

So the witch had been lying to him. She didn't work here enough for her job to be in jeopardy. The minx.

"I see. Does she have another place of employment?" he asked her.

The clerk looked thoughtful.

"Not that I know of. She earns her money doing back-up singing on albums. She's at the studio most of the time, I think," the witch said, eyeing Draco.

"That wouldn't happen to be the 'Aria-Bolis' studio in Hogsmeade would it?" Draco asked her. That studio was one of his family's many holdings. It was the only local music studio in the area.

"Actually, it is," the clerk replied, smiling at the wizard and fluttering her eyes.

"Thank you…you've been quite helpful," Draco said, lifting the witch's hand and kissing it. She looked as if she were going to orgasm. Yes, he could have done anything he wanted with her. Unfortunately for the clerk, his imagination and libido had been taken over by Malina.

Taking advantage of his position, Draco had his solicitor contact the studio and told them Lord Malfoy was to be contacted whenever the back-up singer, Malina was on the premises. And they were not to let the witch know or else heads would roll. This threat was taken quite seriously.

The moment Draco received word Malina was there, he apparated to the studio. After checking several sound booths, he found the one Malina was working in. The witch was helping the engineers do a sound check and was behind the glass wearing headphones and singing when Draco walked in. The wizard stopped, completely smitten by her voice, deep, sensuous…beautiful. Draco watched spellbound as Malina sang and when she finished, he had to take a deep breath. He'd been holding it.

The engineer nodded at Malina, and she removed her headphones and exited the booth.

"Got it, Charlie?" she asked the engineer.

"Yep. Thanks, Malina. You know…you should record a song of your own here. You'd be a bloody hit," the engineer said to her.

"I'm not star material, Charlie…you know that. I don't want fame. I want peace," she responded. Then she looked up and saw Draco who was staring at her.

Shocked, Malina stared back at him. What was Draco Malfoy doing here? She asked him.

"This studio is one of my holdings. I was just doing a walk-through," he lied.

"Oh, I see. The boss man checking up on his investment," Malina said, walking past him and out of the door. Draco followed her.

"You have an amazing voice," Draco said, ignoring her little barb, "I've never heard anyone sing so beautifully. You are very talented."

"Thank you," Malina said, steadily walking down the hall. She stopped outside a door and looked at Draco, who also stopped.

"I have a session. No one is allowed in," she said.

Draco knew full well he could enter any session he wanted. But it was obvious the witch didn't want him standing about, so he didn't press the issue.

"How about that dinner?" he asked her.

Malina shook her head.

"I'm not interested in getting to know you better, Lord Malfoy," she said, emphasizing the "Lord." "I'm not interested in dating the son of known Death Eaters."

"Now wait a minute," Draco said, his eyes darkening with anger. "You can't judge me by my parents. I'm not my parents."

"They raised you, didn't they? You must have their beliefs," Malina said to him.

"I have my own beliefs," Draco said.

Malina blinked at him.

"Let me see your left forearm," she said.

Draco frowned at her. His Dark Mark was there.

"No," he said, scowling.

"That's what I thought. You're a Death Eater too," she said. "But of course you have too much influence to be locked away like you should be. How many muggles and muggle-borns like me have you watched die?"

Draco reacted before he knew what he was doing. He grabbed Malina by both arms and shook her, his eyes wild.

"You know nothing about that! Nothing about the horrors I've had to helplessly stand by and watch! Why do you think I am NOT like my parents! I may have the mark, Malina…but I do not have the soul of a Death Eater…" he hissed at her.

Malina's eyes went wide with terror at Draco's sudden violence…then he calmed, realizing what he had said, what he was doing. He released her.

"I'm going to have to obliviate you," he said quietly, "no one can know what you know about me."

"Why?" she asked with a whisper, studying Draco. There was more to him than what he was presenting. Something deeper.

"It is…important," he said, drawing his wand.

Malina looked into his eyes and saw pain there. So Draco was a wizard with secrets. She understood secrets and how lonely keeping them could be.

"Please don't," she said softly, "Don't obliviate me. I won't tell anyone. I want to know you aren't one of them. And you'll feel better if at least one person knows. Secrets are like that."

Draco looked at her.

"Malina, if it got back to the wrong people, it would mean trouble…not just for me…" he said, hesitating. He wanted Malina to know he wasn't the way she assumed he was, but the danger…

"I won't tell anyone, Draco," she said. "I'm a muggle-born, remember? I'll keep your secret."

Draco blinked at her several times, trying to decide what to do.

"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked her. "I don't even know you."

"You can get to know me…over dinner," she replied.

* * *

Draco explained to Malina that their friendship would also have to be a secret, and he understood if she couldn't accept that. Malina was quite a private person herself and dating a Lord would make her a target of the paparazzi, so she had no problem with the secrecy aspect. 

Draco always brought her to the Manor to eat, but was a gentleman. Malina was no easy shag. They took time to know each other and Draco never once made an untoward move her. They would dine, talk and he would send her on her way.

One night, Malina waited for Draco to retrieve her…and he didn't come. He didn't show up at the studio either. He was gone for weeks. Had something happened to him? She went to his manor about a month after his disappearance, and was informed by the house elves he'd "gone away" and they didn't know when he would be back.

This disturbed Malina. Draco did not seem the kind of wizard who would just leave without telling her anything. It was easy to see he wanted a relationship with her. Where had he gone?

Then, one night he suddenly showed up at the studio. His eyes were rather wild and pained.

"Draco, Draco…what's wrong? Where have you been?" she had asked him.

"Come with me to the Manor, Malina…please," he said to her almost desperately.

"But I'm in a session," she replied.

Draco's shoulders slumped.

"Very well," he said, then disapparated, startling her and everyone in the sound booth.

Malina went back to doing her vocals, but she was very concerned. She had been seeing Draco for two months before his disappearance a month ago. He had never been so intense. After the session, she went to the Manor. A house elf with a worried expression let her in and showed her to the main study.

Draco was slouched in an armchair in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames with a haunted look in his eyes.

"Draco?" she said softly.

The wizard's gray eyes shifted up, then he saw the witch and leaped out of his chair.

"Malina…you came," he said, approaching her, that pained look still in his eyes. Suddenly he embraced her, pulling the witch tight against him, holding her.

"I need you," he said against her temple before pulling back and looking into her eyes, "Malina…please."

Malian's insides seemed to flip over at the look on his face.

"Draco…" she breathed, not knowing what to say.

"Let me…let me," he breathed, suddenly covering her mouth in a searing kiss that set her entire body ablaze.

It was the last truly coherent moment Malina had that night. Draco possessed her as if he himself were possessed and it was early morning before he finally let the witch alone, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her quaking body possessively.

"Don't leave me, Malina," were the last words he whispered to her before he fell into an exhausted and sated sleep.

They became lovers, but…Draco kept disappearing. Malina knew he was doing something important…but he would never tell her what. It was a wall between them…a wall that grew thicker and thicker as time passed. Malina tried to break it off with him several times, hiding from him for weeks before he'd find her and whisk her back to his manor.

Like he'd done tonight.

Malina listened to his breathing level out. He was asleep, but she knew that if she made any attempt to leave, Draco would wake instantly and take her again. She lay there, Draco's chest rising and falling against her back as he slept, feeling his ache inside her and the ache of her own heart as well. She loved Draco…but couldn't take the pain that loving him caused. The secrets between them were just too great.

Would there ever be an end to this? Would she ever get free of him?

She had to.

* * *

"Volaria, drink all of your pumpkin juice," Bellatrix LeStrange said to the scowling thirteen-year old witch sitting at the breakfast table with her arms crossed. 

"I don't want it," Volaria said, eyeing the pumpkin juice suspiciously, "Last time I drank pumpkin juice from you, I was sick for two days and some of my hair fell out."

The young witch touched a bald patch on her blonde head and grimaced.

"You're such a pussy, Volaria," her sixteen-year-old brother said from the other end of the table. He was eating a piece of sausage.

"Voltaire, you take that back!" she yelled at him. "Aunt Bella, tell him to stop talking to me like that!"

Bellatrix grinned and said nothing.

"I am not a pussy! It's fine for boys to be bald, but not girls you idiot!" she said to her brother, who narrowed his reddened eyes at her.

"It's not going to matter if you are bald later on. Think of the power, stupid," he snarled, launching some eggs at her from his fork.

Volaria pointed her finger at the flying scrambled eggs and zapped them out of existence before they reached her. Voltaire scowled. He couldn't do that. He didn't have wandless magic.

"I don't want the fucking power!" Volaria screeched, jumping up from the table, "I don't want any of this. And for once in my life I'd like to go outside!"

The witch bolted from the room, her crimson robes billowing behind her.

Voltaire watched her go then looked up at Bellatrix, frowning. The gray-eyed witch hadn't said a word during their exchange...despite their language. She never said anything about how they spoke to each other.

"I think you should stop giving Volaria the elixir," he said quietly.

Bellatrix hid her smile and kept her face straight as she looked at the young wizard. His skin was slowly becoming more dry and flakey and he had lost all his hair.

"Why Voltaire?" she asked him, already knowing the answer.

"Because, even though I can't stand her...she's my sister. If she becomes too powerful, I'm going to have to kill her," he said, spooning some eggs into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "There can only be one Dark Lord after all, and I have to make sure no one is as powerful as I am so I can assume my father's throne. No one. Not even Volaria. So it would be better if you stopped giving her the elixir. She doesn't want it anyway."

"I see, Voltaire. You are thinking ahead. That is good," the witch said, walking up to the young wizard, who craned his head up at the witch. Bellatrix was still very lovely and curvaceous. She ran a finger under his chin, and the young wizard closed his eyes with pleasure. His crotch always grew tight lately whenever Bella touched him. It tightened now, and he gave her a hungry look.

"It feels good when you touch me, Aunt Bella," he breathed, his red eyes opening and staring at the witch.

Bella smiled lasciviously.

"You have your father's reaction to me, Voltaire. When you turn seventeen I will show you just how good my touch can feel," she said to him, kissing the wizard lightly on his chapped lips. "I will think about stopping Volaria's treatments...but for now, apply yourself to your studies and grow strong. You have great robes to fill, Voltaire. Very great robes."

"Yes, Aunt Bellatrix," the wizard replied, his eyes resting on her body as she walked away from him.

She was so beautiful. Beautiful and cruel. She let him kill a house elf the other day...just for fun. She gave him a club and pointed at the trembling creature. His name was Dropsy, and the elf had taken care of Voltaire since he was a baby.

"Kill it Voltaire," she said, smiling at him. "See how good it feels."

Voltaire obeyed her and found that it did feel good as the elf screamed and begged his young master for mercy. The wizard beat Dropsy until he was nothing but a flat mass of pulverized skin and bone, the blood of his former caretaker covering Voltaire's robes and spattering his face. Bella had been very pleased with him and kissed him on the lips for over five seconds, one soft hand cupping the back of his bald head. It had felt so good. Bella's mouth was so soft and warm, and she smelled...gods. Voltaire couldn't describe how she smelled if he had all the words in the world before him.

All he knew was that he loved her.

* * *

Bellatrix entered her private chambers looking thoughtful. Voltaire was developing nicely, but Volaria…she was too soft, too much like her mother. 

The gray-eyed witch sat down on her bed, smirking. So, the young Lord was already thinking of sororicide. Good. Good. It meant he was thinking of himself, for himself. Her years of teaching were paying off. Voltaire might even eclipse his father in his cruelty.

His father.

Bellatrix's lip curled as she thought of how successfully she had duped Voldemort. She had been his number one consort, but Bella was not satisfied with such a place. She wanted to rule beside the Dark Lord as his queen.

But Voldemort was too selfish, too paranoid to share his throne. He didn't even want children for fear they would grow up to overthrow him. He intended on living forever, so did not want or need heirs. He never worried about Bella. She was born with a closed womb, something she never forgave the gods for. This added to her cruelty, and she took great pleasure in tormenting and mutilating pregnant witches and muggles, often slicing them open, removing the fetus and crushing it before the mother's eyes underfoot. Bella was a cruel, sick soul…which endeared her to Voldemort even more.

Yet, she was ambitious, and knew that the forces of good just might overthrow the paranoid despot, and so she concocted a plan. Voldemort enjoyed threesomes and often sent Bella to find partners for their trysts, trusting her to insure whoever she brought would not conceive. He thought he was safe in this, seeing how Bella envied women who could bear children. She would never allow any woman to be impregnated by him. Or so Voldemort thought.

When Bella first conceived of this plan, she went out to find a secluded place, somewhere she could protect her secret. She had an underground enclave built in a secret location, most of the workmen house elves she forced into service. It took five years for it to be completed and was carefully warded and rendered unplottable by a young, talented, and unfortunately for him, gullible Spells Master, who Bella first seduced, then convinced she was building a "safe house" for muggle-borns in the event that the Dark Lord's forces overran the wizarding world. So the young wizard felt compelled to keep her secret and use all his skill and creativity to create a hold that was impossible to discern or penetrate without the proper spells. In fact, there were some very nasty surprises for anyone who did manage to find the hold and tried to force their way in.

Of course, when the young wizard completed his work, Bella killed him. She slit his throat while riding him cowgirl style, orgasming as he gurgled, his blue eyes wide with shock and blood pouring from the deep wound. He stayed erect until the bitter end.

The hold was quite large and ingeniously constructed so fresh air could enter through fissures and circulate throughout. It had indoor plumbing and running water. It also had its own infirmary, library, labs, classrooms, a large snake pit where King Cobras were bred and large open spaces where games or other events could be held. Of course it had a large kitchen and several living areas, bedrooms and the like. It also had a Room of Requirement, which required Bella to hire and kill several skilled craftswizards, using the same story she used on the young Spellmaster. People were so fucking gullible.

The enclave was completely run by house elves, but Bella acquired, or kidnapped rather, a young healer fresh out of university named Jordan, and kept him chained by one leg in a small room until his services were required. Sometimes she had sex with the brown-eyed, brown-haired wizard, but it was always a non-consensual situation, the poor healer doing so under duress.

"I got you, didn't I?" Bella would say to him, "What makes you think I can't get a replacement should you die? Now lie down and cooperate."

To her credit however, Bella kept Jordan supplied with books, magazines, parchment, ink, quills and the like so his brain wouldn't atrophy, and twice a week either she or a properly conditioned house elf took him to the main arena and let him exercise. The elves knew they were not to serve Jordan beyond this, though they often took him extra food when they could.

When Bella was satisfied with the premises, she then enacted the next part of her plan, and brought Voldemort a witch who she had cast a fertility spell on. The witch was scared to death, which delighted Voldemort, and the despot shagged her far into the night, Bella watching more than she participated as the witch screamed and begged for mercy. The woman was thoroughly traumatized, and it was easy to bring her to the enclave and situate her there. As Bella hoped, the witch, whose name was Patricia, had indeed conceived, and was horrified to find out that if the Dark Lord discovered she was pregnant he would kill both her and the child without hesitation.

Bella played the Protectress, taking care of Patricia's every need until she delivered Voltaire with the healer's assistance. The poor wizard had just cut the umbilical cord and announced it was a boy, when the room was filled with the dread green light of the Killing curse. Patricia hadn't even had a chance to lay eyes on her child.

Bella studied the baby. He was dark-haired like Voldemort had once been.

"I am his mother now," she told the wide-eyed healer. "Take him and care for him. The elves will help you."

Jordan had no idea who the father of the child was, but he did as Bellatrix said.

Voltaire became quite ill with a magical fever and seemed on the brink of death. He recovered, but not wanting to take any chances, Bella brought another fertile witch to Voldemort, little more than a child really, and the despot was once again delighted. Bella picked the best witches. He brutalized the young witch, possessing her unmercifully as Bella watched. Once again, Bella took the young witch in, nurtured her throughout her pregnancy, then killed her the same way she did Patricia…the moment the cord was cut. Bella was a bit disappointed Volaria was a girl child, but there could be a Dark Lady as well as a Dark Lord, and she needed a back-up child in case anything happened to Voltaire.

When Voltaire turned eighteen months, Bella took him from Jordan and put him in her own rooms. She began to teach him a disregard for life immediately…showing him first how to kill small animals, nifflers in cages by stabbing them with a long pointed metal dowel.

"See the blood, Voltaire. Make lots and lots of blood my sweet," she'd croon, rewarding him with hugs and kisses for his brutal actions. When it came time to educate Voltaire, he was home schooled by the witch, who utilized her memories of Hogwarts in pensieves as a guide. Of course, there were no muggle studies. She also made sure that Voltaire knew he was royalty and better than anyone else and to hate muggles and muggle-borns. But she also taught him to fear his father and never seek him out.

"Your father knows you will be greater than he ever was, and so will kill you to keep his throne, but that throne belongs to you, Voltaire. The throne and all the power that goes with it. I will help you when the time comes, and I will help you rule. I will be your Queen and your Protector," she told him.

Bella also interacted with Volaria, though she immediately found out the witch did not have the proper temperament to be a despot. Volaria cried when Bella forced her to kill animals. The child abhorred violence. But Bella found out early on that Volaria could do wandless magic when in a fit of temper she threw her palm toward the niffler cage and dashed it against the wall, killing all the animals anyway. She was only five at the time.

"Such power," Bella breathed.

She continued to work with the witch, but found her rebellious. Rather than punish Volaria herself, she allowed Voltaire to torment her psychologically, calling her weak, pathetic and stupid at every opportunity, especially when she hedged at doing something cruel…which usually made her do it, just to prove him wrong and show him she was as strong as he was.

When it was time for the Final Battle, Bellatrix did not participate and instead hid in the secret fortress…so when the Death Eaters were rounded up…she was not among them. Word had it that she had been killed, her body completely destroyed and that erroneous information suited Bellatrix just fine. She remained in hiding, working on Voltaire, showing him pensieves of his father's brutal acts and asking him if he thought he could do better. Voltaire always assured her he could.

Not all the Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban. Some swore they didn't participate in the battle and if they weren't caught there, very little could be done. The better known criminal Death Eaters such as Peter Pettigrew hid themselves, having prepared for the eventuality that Voldemort might fall, forming an underground network of cells supported by the free Death Eaters. Severus might have been used to round up this group of criminals, but he wasn't…because of Bellatrix. Several years ago, Bellatrix had cornered him at a revel and took him aside.

"Severus, I have information that proves you are a spy for the Order," she said to the wizard as cries and screams of the tortured and dying reverberated all around them, covering their conversation.

Severus leveled his dark eyes on her soberly and said, "Those rumors have circulated for ages, Bella. The Dark Lord knows I am his most loyal servant."

"This is not rumor, Severus…but fact. Information I extracted from an Order member as I hacked his limbs off one by one. He swore an oath that all he said was true before I clove his head from his limbless body," she hissed. "He would not have been able to do that if it wasn't so."

The truth was Bella had no such information, just a suspicion that she decided to present as truth.

"All I need do is give the Dark Lord a pensieve of the events, and you are a dead man," she said to the wizard. "But, if you are willing to grant me a service, I will take an oath never to reveal this truth to him. Ever."

Severus' eyes washed over Bella. The witch could see death in them.

"Don't try it, Severus. If you kill me, the Dark Lord will still kill you. I am his favorite. Your position will not still his hand. You have not been providing the best of information lately," she said warningly.

Severus' face contorted.

"What kind of service, witch?" he asked her.

"I need the formula for Voldemort's elixir, but need it adapted to different stages of strength so it can be fed diluted to a child, its strength increased as the child draws closer to adulthood," she whispered to the wizard.

"A child! The elixir would kill a child," Severus said, frowning at her.

"Diluted! With instructions on how to increase its strength in increments," Bellatrix hissed at him, "Something a tolerance could be built up for. Anyway, if the child dies, that has nothing to do with you. I need that formula Severus. If you do not give it to me, I will inform Voldemort of your treachery right now. Give me an oath you will deliver the formula and the instructions how it is brewed. Now!"

Severus had no idea what twisted ends Bellatrix was working toward, but he gave her his oath, received hers in turn and informed Albus of her extortion as soon as he could. The Headmaster looked quite worried.

"We must find out what Bellatrix is about, Severus. Now you have two jobs…to keep me apprised of Voldemort's plans and to find out what Bellatrix LeStrange is up to…before the Final Battle occurs," he instructed Severus.

But that was easier said than done. Bella was very careful. Once, Severus managed to place a tracking spell on her, but when she disapparated, her signature showed up in over one hundred places in different parts of the world simultaneously, then faded out immediately. She had some kind of splaying spell on her person and was impossible to track. The dead Spellmaster had created it for her, so she would be able to hide her charges and not be traced. Yet she could still feel Voldemort's summons, and never failed to appear when he called for her. Since the Dark Lord believed Bella was truly the Death Eater most dedicated to him, never once did he consider she would betray him, which only goes to prove that men…even despots…can be great fools when it comes to women.

If Voldemort hadn't died, Bella would have set Voltaire on him to fight for the throne. Bella knew many secrets about his father and would have educated the young wizard thoroughly on the Dark Lord's weaknesses. The elixir would afford him great protection. But, Voldemort had been killed and the throne left vacant, ripe for the pickings.

With Voldemort's death, the wizarding world believed the worst was over…but neither Albus nor Severus believed Bellatrix was dead, and that she was up to something horrible. If they removed all the Death Eaters, she might not surface. It was a terrible choice, since the Death Eaters continued to kidnap, torture and kill muggles and muggle-borns, though they were much lower key. Those taken were never found again. Gone were the days of leaving bodies about as a warning to others. These Death Eaters killed quietly, hatefully and without the need for acknowledgement which made them even more dangerous than when under Voldemort.

Both Albus and Severus believed Bellatrix was grooming another despot, and she had to be found and stopped before the child was old enough to rise to power. Judging by when Bella approached Severus, if the child was alive then, he or she would between fifteen and seventeen years old…almost an adult. They had no idea there were two children.

Draco Malfoy had turned to Albus in his sixth year and told him he did not want to serve Voldemort, but was going to be forced into his service. Albus made him the same offer he made Professor Snape years ago, to be a spy for the Order and help bring the Dark Lord down. Draco agreed and was given to Severus to train in the ways of deception, beginning with Occlumency, which was most important. Draco showed a great aptitude for it, much better than Harry, but then again, his life and the life of the Potions Master depended on his abilities, and this was enough impetus to make him an expert at hiding his thoughts and memories in a very short while.

Teaching Draco to hide his emotions was another story. Severus brought him to the Room of Requirement and forced him to relive his own amplified memories of revel after revel until he was able to watch the most depraved and horrible acts without any outward reaction. At first, Draco threw up a lot. A bucket had to be placed near him, and Severus had to restrain him in a chair to keep him from bolting from the room as he watched the mutilation and murder of men, women and children, witches, wizards, muggles, muggle-borns and out of favor purebloods. Voldemort didn't care who he killed.

There were whispers around Hogwarts that Draco was dying, the young wizard was always so pale and weak looking those early days. But he soon grew stoic. He had to. At his first revel, he did his father proud, though he didn't participate. He told his father he wasn't ready to perform sexually in front of people, and Lucius understood. The ability had to be learned. But he was very proud Draco didn't pale or throw up at the carnage…very few new Death Eaters walked away from a revel unaffected. The boy was stronger than he ever dreamed, and he boasted about him to anyone who would listen. Even the Dark Lord was impressed.

"You are a strong one, Draco," the Dark Lord lisped at him. "You will be most valuable in my ranks. You have the makings of a raider."

A raider was a Death Eater that invaded homes and slaughtered families. Luckily, when Draco was inducted into the raider ranks, he was able to warn Albus of the targets and they were protected in one way or another. The ways always differed, so no suspicion was cast on Draco. He saved many lives.

Because of Bellatrix, when the time for the Final Battle came, both Draco and Severus did not participate. In Draco's case, his father provided him the cover. If they both died, there would be no heir and their estate would die. So Lucius made Draco stay at the Manor to make sure the bloodline would continue. His mother Narcissa fought by his father's side until they both were overcome and captured. Severus simply told the others when he saw the battle turning, he escaped before he was captured, and since no one could prove he was involved, he was not arrested.

Having Voldemort's mark alone was not enough to have a person sent to Azkaban. Due process required that it had to be proven they had broken the law, and veritaserum was not allowed to be used in interrogation or the courtroom since it was discovered false information could be placed in a witch's or wizard's mind through an altered form of Legilimency. Veritaserum-induced confessions became worthless in the eyes of the law. There had to be witnesses who saw them unmasked, and when most Death Eaters did their dirt, they kept their masks on and left no witnesses if they could help it.

Shortly after Voldemort's death, there were rumors that Bellatrix had shown up at various Death Eater gatherings, telling others that the Dark Lord was not dead would return. Severus and Draco had yet to find her at a meeting…but whenever they got wind of one, or a revel, they were required to go, watch and mingle. This meant spending time in the homes of their dark comrades for days and weeks, the revels moving like parties from home to home. Most of the time they were forced to witness continued atrocities against the innocent, unable to do anything that might cast suspicion on them besides mercifully killing the victims. What made this worse was that both Draco and Severus had hoped at least this aspect of the Dark Lord's influence had ended, and it hadn't. The fact that it continued as they stood idly by wore on their very souls. They felt less than human when they returned to their regular lives, and sought the solace of their witches at the first opportunity, letting their love soothe and heal them for the time being…before they were forced to go back again.

Severus lay spooned around Hermione in her four-poster bed, his chin resting on top of her head, the wizard sleeping peacefully for the first time in a month. He had managed to get back to her as he promised and was thankful for that. Hermione's presence seemed to drive away the nightmares that plagued him when he was alone, giving him the illusion of peace that he so desperately needed in order to continue.

In the Manor also, Draco slept with one arm flung possessively over Malina, his rest easy and undisturbed. She too drove away his demons. She was his shield against the things hidden and railing in the dark.

But the two wizards were in danger of losing what they held most dear if they didn't find out where Bella was hiding soon. Both Severus and Draco shifted in their sleep at the same moment, pulling their witches closer, unwilling to let them go.

* * *

**_A/N: All right. I think I've covered the basic history and conflict, why Death Eaters are still around, what Severus and Draco are up to, and why they are so desperate for their women when they return. Bellatrix LeStrange is absolutely horrible in this story. She deserves to die a very nasty death. Brrrrr. Thanks for reading._**


	2. Part 2

**_WARNING: Rape Scene in this chapter. One more warning will be given just before the scene occurs. The act itself is not described, though the physical attack is._**

* * *

**A Song for Severus Part 2**

In a small stone room sparsely lit by torches, several Death Eaters sat deep in discussion. Peter Pettigrew, Jonathan Wilkes, Elizabeth Yaxley, Devon Rosier and Fenrir Greyback, who, although in his human form, was snarling.

"I see no reason for it," the werewolf said, the torchlight making his eyes glint unnaturally, "We are fine as we are."

Fenrir was fiercely independent and had hated being under Voldemort's thumb when the despot was alive. He was adamantly against what the others were suggesting.

"We need to be unified," Elizabeth said, looking around at her comrades, "We are wasting our energies and accomplishing nothing the way we are now. Voldemort's dream cannot be allowed to die. A new Lord would bring us together. We would mean something again. The tenets of Pureblood superiority will once again become respected by the wizarding world. "

"Where would we find someone as strong and cruel as Voldemort?" Jonathan asked.

"We wouldn't have to find him, we would have to create him," Elizabeth replied, her eyes shining, "Tom Riddle was not always so powerful. It was the elixir that gave him his power. The chosen leader could take the elixir. I am sure Severus Snape still knows the formula."

"Taking the elixir can be fatal," Peter Pettigrew said with a shudder. He remembered how painful it had been for Voldemort to continuously take the elixir. His first transformation nearly killed him.

"Whoever wants the position of the new Dark Lord would have to be willing to face the possibility of death in order to assume the throne," Devon said, thinking he would like a chance to assume power.

"This is madness…we don't need another Dark Lord controlling us. I am enjoying the random slaughter," Fenrir growled.

"It serves no purpose other than allowing us to relive a dead past. The revels are meaningless. No one is even aware we are still active. We act like frightened children, hiding the bodies of the dead. No one fears us any longer. We need to come together…we need to take our rightful place in the wizarding world. They won't expect it. They've grown lax and lazy since Voldemort's death," Elizabeth hissed.

"How would a leader be chosen? It would be chaos with everyone clamoring to be picked," Devon said.

"Duels. To the death, with the two strongest wizards facing off, the purpose being to overcome, rather than kill. That way, if the winner dies from the elixir, we will have another suitable choice to assume the throne. Anyone interested in assuming power would have to be willing to die for the opportunity," Elizabeth said.

"I still don't like it," Fenrir said.

"What if YOU were the next Dark Lord, Fenrir…you'd like it then, wouldn't you?" Elizabeth shot at him.

The werewolf looked shocked, then thoughtful. Yes…he would like to be the leader of the Death Eaters. The elixir would enhance him beyond his werewolf form. He could do what he liked…create an army of werewolves out of the ranks if he wished. No one could deny him or it would be considered treason, punishable by death. And oh, what deaths he would inflict…victims beaten, tortured then torn apart by werewolves on the night of the full moon. Fenrir's tongue lolled out at the thought. Since he was in human form, the effect was quite disturbing.

"Yes, I would like it," he breathed. As a werewolf, he was physically tougher than a totally human wizard. Most likely he would be able to survive the elixir.

"I think we should put it to a vote with the rest of our ranks," Peter said.

"No. No, this isn't a damn democracy. We will simply spread the word that we are looking for a new Dark Lord and let those interested approach us. Those who have the Mark will have no choice but to accept him after he is transformed. He will have control of the Summons," Devon replied.

"What makes you so sure 'he' won't be a 'she?'" Elizabeth asked Devon, who looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"You mean to face death for the chance, Elizabeth?" he asked her. Elizabeth was quite deadly.

"Possibly. I will have to consider it. I will definitely lose my good looks," the witch said, tossing her blonde hair, "But in exchange for the power…I might be willing. As the Dark Lady, I will still have my choice of lovers."

The other Death Eaters fought back a shudder. If her transformation was anything like Voldemort's, any unfortunate Death Eater she chose would most likely need a powerful sex spell to perform. Voldemort had been ghastly. A female would be a thousand times worse.

Fenrir looked at Elizabeth with narrowed eyes. Competition. He growled low in the back of his throat. Elizabeth heard it, and looked at him…her own blue eyes narrowed.

"You'd have to face me," Fenrir snarled.

"And that means what, Fenrir? You are like any other wizard when the moon isn't full. I could kill you," Elizabeth replied, her hand moving toward her pocket, ready to draw her wand.

Fenrir actually showed his teeth at her.

"I doubt that witch," he hissed.

"Well, we just might have to see about that," Elizabeth replied coolly.

"Enough of this. If you both wish to go for the throne, then you will submit your names like everyone else, " Jonathan said, frowning at the both of them.

Both Elizabeth and Fenrir fell silent, but continued to glare at each other.

"What about Bellatrix?" Peter said, running his hand over his almost bald head nervously. "She claims the Dark Lord is going to return. Maybe she's found a way to resurrect him. If she's telling the truth, things could go badly for us."

"Bellatrix is insane. Voldemort is gone. Fuck her," Devon said. "She's hardly around anyway."

"That's what worries me," Peter responded, "What is she doing?"

"Who the fuck cares? Bella is just one Death Eater. Personally, I'm glad the sick bitch doesn't come around often. She's completely off her crown," Devon said, "And Peter, you fucking worry about everything. You're a coward and always have been one. Gryffindor my ass."

Peter wished he had kept the silver hand the Dark Lord rewarded him with for resurrecting him in Harry's fourth year. He would have transformed it into a sharp sword and run Devon through before he knew what hit him. But his hand had been restored to flesh by Voldemort, because he had used it to kill several Death Eaters he had altercations with, and the despot no longer trusted him.

When Voldemort took the elixir, he was vulnerable for several minutes. Peter could kill him then, since he was the one who administered the elixir. The Dark Lord wasn't taking any chances. Not that Peter would ever have had the courage to do such a thing.

"So are we agreed? The search for the new Dark Lord has begun?" Devon asked his companions. One by one, they said "aye" with Peter hesitating the longest before agreeing.

"Fine. The first thing we must do is contact Severus Snape. We need his abilities," Devon said.

Peter thought he might be able to brew the elixir, he had watched Severus prepare it so many times, but he said nothing. He didn't want the responsibility, and besides…he wasn't so great at brewing.

Let Severus recreate the Devil.

* * *

Severus was sitting in Hermione's living room, reading over a hypothesis she had written concerning the true workings of the Cruciatus curse, how it affected the body and possible ways to nullify it magically. She would be presenting it to her Charms Professor at the end of term. She had been working on it since the beginning of her third year of university. 

There were a number of cadavers at the university, the unclaimed bodies of unfortunates who had died from the sustained application of the curse during Voldemort's reign, and Hermione spent a lot of time examining them. One of the wonderful things about the magical world was that a corpse could be put under stasis and next to no decomposition would occur, no matter how many years had passed. Since muggle medicine nor autopsies were not practiced or performed in the wizarding world, Hermione had done her own study of these techniques in preparation for her paper.

The witches and wizards in the mortuary had simply been curious when Hermione came down to the bowels of the university, with a book in hand, to do research. She created a sloped, metal table with a hole in one end and a bucket beneath it.

"Put the cadaver here," she instructed.

The naked body of a man of approximately thirty years of age was placed on the table, his feet near the hole. His face was horribly contorted, and his body colored the deep crimson/black that all who died of the curse evidenced.

When Hermione reached into her pocket, the staff expected her to draw her wand. But she drew a small white mask, a pair of latex gloves and a little rolled bag. She set the bag on the table, unrolled it and revealed a number of wickedly sharp instruments. She then reached into her other pocket and pulled out another rolled bag. This one contained several capped test tubes, tweezers, a dish and a small bottle of alcohol. She poured a bit of alcohol into the dish.

"What in the world are you going to do with those?" one horrified staff member asked her.

"Examine the body," Hermione replied coolly, putting on the mask and pulling on the gloves. She opened the book and leafed through it, opening it to a well-worn page. Then she looked up at the witches and wizards standing around her.

"I suggest you either get masks or move a distance away," she said, "I'm going to remove the stasis spell on this body and only have a little time before accelerated decomposition starts setting in. It's going to stink and I don't think it will be particularly healthy to breathe in."

"You're going to remove the stasis spell?" a wizard said incredulously. Most examinations were done by magic with the spell in place. Then the cadaver could be reused.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Hermione replied, sounding a bit exasperated. She didn't have time for stupid questions. There was research afoot.

"But…but…" the wizard stammered.

"Listen, I requisitioned this cadaver for my use…and I'm going to use it. Now either cover up or move away," Hermione said, pulling out her wand and removing the stasis spell. Quickly she picked up a sharp scalpel, swished it in the alcohol and taking a look at the book, placed it at on the right shoulder and carved a deep incision down to the breast bone, the staff around her gasping and falling back as black blood oozed from the cut. Hermione quickly cut down the left shoulder, that incision also meeting at the breast bone. Then she made a long cut all the way down to the pubic bone.

She heard the sound of retching behind her and grumbles of "mutilation" as she used the scalpel to carefully peel back the skin, muscle and soft tissue, then pulled the chest flap over the cadaver's face, revealing the ribcage and neck muscles. Then she really went to work, cutting both sides of the ribcage, separating it from the tissue behind it and with some effort, pulling it from the body.

Fluids drained down the metal table, through the hole and into the bucket. The staff at university had never seen such a terrible sight as Hermione removing organs, flesh and whatever else she deemed important, placing samples in the test tubes and putting stasis spells on them. The scent of decomposition was growing stronger, the flesh and organs of the cadaver becoming dark and slimy. By the time Hermione finished her examination, she was alone. Everyone had fled. She did her best to put everything back inside the cadaver, and using her wand, sealed up the flesh. It was a bit lumpy. She replaced the stasis spell on the remains, which looked horrible. They wouldn't be using this wizard again.

Hermione scourgified the table, the fluids and left the cadaver there for the staff. She had what she needed…for now.

Hermione had been brought before the Dean concerning her treatment of the body, but explained why she did what she did and why she had to use muggle methods for this examination since magic couldn't tell her what she needed to know. After an hour, the Dean let her go without any repercussions. He had looked at Hermione's records for any inconsistencies in her behavior or classes and found she had the best marks in the school as well as at Hogwarts. She was a brilliant witch…and despite the unsavoriness of her methods, she might be on to something. He wasn't about to curtail her.

Now Severus read over her draft, his eyebrow arching from time to time as he read her hypothesis that the application of the Cruciatus curse caused the cells of the body to begin consuming themselves, and if the spell was held on an individual too long, the body would become unable to continue functioning because of the destruction of blood vessels and arteries that carried the blood. The organs were damaged as well, but it was the loss of circulation that killed the individual. The blackening of the body was from the blood that had no place to go, so spilled over and filled whatever space was available.

Hermione believed that if the collapse of the circulatory system could be arrested, then a person could withstand a long term application of the curse with less pain, though there would be some damage to the organs. It wasn't a solution to the curse, but a start.

Severus put down the paper and looked at Hermione, who was watching him anxiously.

"You need to suggest ways how to protect the circulatory system, and the process you would follow to do so. I think it is safe to assume some muggle techniques would be necessary. You need to add those techniques in detail to flesh it out. The theory is quite interesting…but more is needed to make a good paper into an outstanding one. As it is, you leave the reader curious. Curiosity is not enough. You need to make the reader believe what you are suggesting is actually doable," Severus said to the witch, who nodded.

"Mind you, this paper will not be looked on kindly…in fact, properly done, it will shake up quite a few wizened elders who believe muggle practices are barbaric. I assure you hundreds of rebuttals will be written to refute what you've compiled here. You have to make it ironclad to be taken seriously. Some won't even be able to get through your…autopsy is it?" Severus asked her.

"Yes," Hermione replied, "An autopsy."

Severus looked at his witch. Hermione had actually cut open a body and took it apart as it decomposed. She probably would have made an excellent Death Eater. He shuddered a little at the thought of it.

"You have a strong constitution," he said to her, standing up, walking over to the couch and handing Hermione the papers. "Not many wizards or witches could stomach carving up a dead body."

"It was important I do it. I couldn't have learned anything otherwise," Hermione said, straightening the draft a bit self-consciously.

"You never cease to amaze me with how far you're willing to go in search of knowledge," the wizard said, sitting down next to Hermione "You never go half-measure…in anything. With you, Hermione…it is all or nothing."

That was one of the aspects Severus appreciated about Hermione. Her drive. Once her mind was set on an objective, there was no stopping her. On occasion he'd have to force her to stop studying to eat, or bathe, she would be so caught up. Just wait until she graduated and was free to pursue her own ends. She would be a boon to wizarding society. She only had two years of university left. Severus hoped this business with Bella and the Death Eaters would be over by then, and his relationship with Hermione could advance. He wanted to marry the witch before some other wizard snapped her up.

Although he had not yet told her, Severus loved Hermione and could not imagine her out of his life, now that she had brought a new dimension to it. Her brilliance, her passion, her ability to touch his soul dark soul with her light was something he did not want to move beyond his grasp. Hermione made him feel normal and deserving of happiness, something he never felt before becoming involved with her. She was also a very independent witch who challenged him as much as she attracted him both intellectually and emotionally. This kept their relationship fresh and a bit volatile.

Hermione had no problem letting the Potions Master know when he overstepped her boundaries. For example, Severus was extremely jealous and hated when any wizard took up any of her time. This jealousy even applied to Harry and Ron, who he believed had designs on her and were using their friendships to wriggle their way closer to her.

"Severus, I am not breaking off my friendship with Harry and Ron just because they have penises," she told the scowling wizard, "And I'm not going to have you lurking about in the shadows when I interact with other wizards. You're just going to have to handle this, Severus…and if you can't…we're going to have to go our separate ways."

Not wanting to lose Hermione, Severus learned to repress his jealousy and hold his tongue, a very big concession for the wizard. But he soon found out relationships were all about concessions.

Since their relationship was a secret, Severus couldn't even confront a wizard he thought was making a move on Hermione. That was the worst part…she appeared single and unattached when she wasn't. It was a source of constant aggravation to the Potions Master and many nights he expressed his claim on and need for her in a very ardent and physical manner that left her breathless…and walking funny.

For the most part however, they were compatible. Yet, as compatible as they were, Severus knew she was unhappy with him…with his secretiveness and his disappearances. In the beginning, when the absences were short, Hermione accepted that the Potions Master had a duty to do. She knew it concerned the remaining Death Eaters, but that was all she knew. She had no idea what they were up to, and like the rest of the wizarding world, considered them impotent and little threat now that Voldemort was gone.

Severus couldn't tell her any different.

His black eyes washed over Hermione as he sat next to her, then he slipped an arm around her shoulder.

"You know witch, that reading that paper has had quite an effect on me," he said to her in his silkiest voice.

"Oh really? And why is that?" Hermione asked him playfully. She knew what he was working up to.

"You know intelligence turns me on. Reading that paper had the same effect on me as reading good erotica," he purred, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

Hermione laughed, moving away from him a bit. Severus tightened his hold on her shoulder.

"What do you say witch, to my giving you a full body massage while you recite that…that "periodic table" to me," he suggested, his dark eyes starting to glitter.

"Full body?" Hermione asked him as he began to rub her shoulders gently.

"Full," he breathed, "Inside and out."

Hermione felt her body relax under his talented hands.

"That sounds good," Hermione sighed.

"It will be," Severus promised.

Giving Hermione's shoulders a final squeeze, he stood up and offered the witch his hand. They were just about to walk down the hallway to Hermione's bedroom when a tap sounded on the window.

Both Severus and Hermione looked toward the noise. There on the sill stood an owl with a letter attached to its leg.

Severus scowled at the interruption as Hermione walked over to the window and pulled it up. The owl stuck out its leg and she removed the letter. It flew away, not even hanging about for a treat.

That was how Devon Rosier trained her.

Hermione turned the letter over in her hands.

"It's from Rosier Jewelers," Hermione said to Severus, "Addressed to you."

Hermione handed Severus the letter. He opened it and scanned the contents, Hermione looking at him curiously.

"Mr. Rosier wants to have lunch with me. He was my contemporary at Hogwarts. Probably wants to sell me a bit of jewelry," Severus said lightly. But he was concerned. He knew this had something to do with the Death Eaters. He only hoped his meeting wouldn't be the beginning of another long disappearance.

"I didn't know you knew Devon Rosier. His jewelry is quite nice," Hermione said, her brow furrowed. There was something more to this. "When does he want to meet you?"

Severus looked at her.

"In half an hour," he replied.

Hermione scowled. Severus was notorious for requiring at least two days notice before he would accept any invitation.

"And you're going to go?" she asked him pointedly.

Severus sighed inwardly.

"Yes. Just to see what he wants," the wizard said, his heart dropping at the look Hermione gave him.

"When will you be back?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Severus really didn't know.

"It shouldn't take long," he said lamely, hoping it wouldn't. He hoped this was a real lunch date and not a descent back into the insanity. He had just gotten back. Hermione might not let this one go if he didn't return.

"I've heard that one before," Hermione said shrewishly, "Just go Severus. So much for the periodic table."

Severus wanted to say he was sorry, but he knew Hermione wouldn't believe him. He kissed her hand.

"I'll be back," he said, wrapping his robes around himself and disapparating with a crack of thunder.

Hermione looked at the empty space the Potions Master had just occupied.

"Yes, you'll be back," she said softly, "But when, Severus? When?"

The witch picked up her draft with a sigh and headed for her bedroom.

Alone.

* * *

After rechecking the book of Potions, Volaria carefully added Tannis root to the brew she working on. Luckily, it only required three hours to finish. It was a hair restoring potion. The bald patch in her head was not filling in, and the witch was determined she wouldn't go bald like her brother. 

She was in the lab set aside for her and Voltaire to use. There was another larger lab, but Aunt Bella kept it securely warded. They weren't allowed in there. But the witch kept this lab well stocked and both Volaria and Voltaire were allowed to utilize it. Voltaire was not into Potions however. He preferred Charms. Volaria realized early that it would be wise to be well rounded and learn as many magical disciplines as possible.

She also realized that it might not be good to let Aunt Bellatrix know what she was learning or how much. At thirteen years of age, Volaria was already an animagus. The library in the stronghold was quite extensive, and Bella updated it with new books every year, particularly the revised texts being used at Hogwarts each year. While skimming through a book of spells and spell types, she had run across the term "Animagus" in her reading. She discovered that an animagus was a witch or wizard that could turn into an animal form. She also discovered there was no spell to effect such a transformation. Curious, she prowled the library until she found "The Big Book of Transformation" which described the process of discovering the animagus form, and the practices that would make that form manifest. Much of it involved hours of meditation and focus, getting in touch with the inner self and establishing without a doubt that one was more than what they appeared to be. In other words, you had to first believe you could change, before you did change.

Because of their inability to suspend their belief, many witches and wizards could not become animagi. But Volaria was a dreamer, and it was easy to imagine herself as something else. She often dreamed of being someplace else to deal with being in the enclave and under the protection of her cruel aunt…this was just a step up.

When Volaria first transformed, it was frightening…if not very impressive. She was no stag, or dog, or lion or anything cool like that. In fact, her animagus form was quite vulnerable and well, weak. The best thing that could be said about it was that it could fly…and even then, not too quickly.

Volaria's animagus form was a mosquito. A tiny little mosquito. To be fair, she was larger than male mosquitoes because she was female, but she couldn't even buzz. Still, she could change into something, though she didn't know what good it could do.

As she lowered the heat on the cauldron, Volaria went over her situation in her mind. What Aunt Bella was doing to them was wrong. She had told Volaria about her father and he sounded absolutely horrible, killing witches and witches simply because they were born from people who had no magic. They were called "muggle-borns" and were the children of muggles, who were like squibs.

Volaria couldn't understand why she should hate people like that, even though Bellatrix told her they were an abomination against nature. Volaria had read biology books and the theory of evolution, and it seemed common for nature to change creatures in order for them to evolve into something better, more suited to their environment. If nature were creating muggle-borns, there must be a reason for them. They shouldn't be killed.

Yet Aunt Bella wanted both her and Voltaire to be just like their father. Voltaire was like him. He was cruel and enjoyed killing. He wanted to be a ruler and take over the world and have the power to kill who he wanted. Volaria knew very little about the outside world, but felt a ruler like her father would ruin it. She also knew her Aunt Bella was disappointed in her.

Volaria suspected that she might even kill her, or let Voltaire kill her because she was powerful but didn't want what they wanted. She was a bright little witch, despite being so sheltered. Living with Bellatrix LeStrange made one focus on self-preservation, no matter the age.

Volaria had another problem. Three years ago, Voltaire began to change. He had been a good looking boy, with dark hair and dark eyes. Then Bella began to give him some kind of potion, an elixir that made him very sick sometimes, and slowly began to physically change him. Volaria suspected it changed him inside too, because he was meaner than ever. First Voltaire's skin became very dry and patchy. He itched all the time and Jordan had to make potions to apply to his skin. Now it was all scaly looking and his hair had all fallen out. He started looking more and more like his father. Even his voice had changed, but not in the normal manner. Instead of becoming lower it became a bit higher. And the worst part was his eyes…they were a dark crimson now, and seemed to be getting redder as time passed.

Now that she was thirteen, Bella tried to get her to start taking the elixir, but Volaria told her she didn't want to look like Voltaire. He was hideous. This statement started a furious duel between the two half-siblings, which Bellatrix didn't stop until it was clear Volaria was getting the better of Voltaire.

"You would give up power because of your vanity?" Bella hissed at her. "Power is better than beauty."

"So why don't you drink it?" Volaria spat at her before running from the room.

The truth was Bella was too frightened to drink the elixir herself. She didn't want to chance dying, and besides, no one was as vain as Bella when it came to her looks. She didn't want to look like Voldemort either. She wanted to rule with her beauty intact.

Since Volaria was being difficult about taking the elixir, at first Bella utilized Voltaire's ability to goad the witch into action initially. It had worked before.

"You are such a coward," he said to her as they stood in the kitchen, Volaria hedging about drinking the elixir, "When I was thirteen, I drank the elixir with no problem. Witches are so weak."

"I am not weak," Volaria argued, drinking down the diluted elixir in the glass in front of her to prove it, Bella smiling to herself. Nothing like peer pressure.

But Volaria became very sick. It felt as if her insides were twisting around and the blood in her veins was on fire. The young witch screamed intermittently for several hours before the pain went away, Voltaire appearing at the door of her bedroom and telling her to shut up over and over again.

After that, Volaria refused to take the elixir, or to be goaded into taking it. So Bella began to slip it into drinks, adding extra sugar in an attempt to cover the taste. It seemed that heat made the elixir impotent, so it couldn't be added to Volaria's food.

Once again Volaria became very sick, and this time a large patch of her blond hair fell out. That was it. The witch refused to drink anything other than plain water now. Bella was almost at her broom's end. Voltaire mentioning he might have to kill his sister sounded like a perfect solution. If Volaria would not complete the transformation, she was of no use to Bella, and expendable.

The brew complete, Volaria turned off the flame under the cauldron with a flick of her finger. She didn't own a wand. She didn't need one. With a wave of her hand she cooled the elixir, then picked up a mirror and held it so she could see her bald patch.

"There you are," she breathed, looking at the exposed skin.

Using the back of a spoon, Volaria applied the thick potion in a gob on the patch. She felt some tingling, then hair suddenly sprouted from the spot quickly, filling it in nicely. The only problem was it was snow white.

Volaria scowled for a moment, then shrugged. It was hair at least.

She studied herself. Actually, it looked kind of cool.

She quickly cleaned up the lab area, putting everything in its proper place then exited the lab, heading for the library, then the Room of Requirement. She was teaching herself more powerful defensive spells.

Volaria had looked in on one of Voltaire's charms lessons, which Bella held in the arena. She watched as Voltaire blasted several large chunks of granite into dust in quick succession almost effortlessly. Bella praised, embraced and kissed him in delight as Voltaire grinned stupidly at her attentions.

Volaria had a feeling that she might need those defensive spells soon.

* * *

Severus sat in Devon Rosier's office, his eyes wide with incredulity. 

"You want me to what?" he asked Devon.

"To recreate the elixir that transformed Tom Riddle into Voldemort. We have decided to create a new Dark Lord to unify and lead us. It is time to rise to power again, Severus," Rosier said.

Severus stared at the wizard, his mind working quickly. If he were to agree to do this, it would most likely force Bellatrix to surface, and even to expose the child she had in an attempt to place him on the throne before another was chosen. With the boy out in the open, Albus and the Order would be free to move in and capture the remaining Death Eaters and charge them with attempting to overthrow the wizarding government.

He would finally be free.

Severus' black eyes rested on Devon.

"I believe you are right, Devon. We are too scattered and are accomplishing nothing. It is time for us to act. I will create the elixir. It will take some time, however," Severus said, "But I must warn you, it could be fatal to whoever takes it if his constitution is not strong enough."

Devon nodded.

"We have time. The new Dark Lord will be chosen through duels to the death and the top two contenders will fight to overcome each other, rather than kill each other. The winner will take the elixir, the loser kept as backup, in case the first should die. If both die, then we will start the process over again," Rosier replied.

Severus doubted anyone would come forward a second time, especially to fight to the death and win only to possibly be killed by the elixir. Anyway, by that time, Bellatrix most likely will have come forward with the boy. Severus wondered how powerful he was. The wizard's mind began to percolate again…he might be able to take advantage of Bellatrix's rage and see the boy before anyone else. Find out how far along he was in regards to power.

"Very well, Devon. I will get to work on it as soon as feasible," Severus said, "However…"

"However?" Devon said frowning. He had suspected the Potions Master would want something in exchange for his services.

"I need a trinket," Severus said, not meaning a trinket at all.

"A trinket?" Devon repeated.

"Yes. A necklace, ring, something…for a witch," Severus replied.

Devon looked surprised. Severus Snape wanting jewelry for a witch? He thought the wizard was impotent. Hm. Maybe that's why he needed a trinket.

"Well, I could give you a nice deal on…" Devon began.

Severus shook his head.

"No. You will give me what I want, Devon. You are asking much of me. It is a small price to pay to regain power," Severus said.

Devon scowled.

"But your position will be assured in the new regime, Severus. As Potions Master to the new Dark Lord, you will have much respect and power among the ranks," Devon said.

"I will also be utilized as a spy again, Devon. Which also means I may find myself in the position of being 'punished' again," the wizard said darkly. "If I am risking being striped again, then I want something substantial to warrant it."

Devon looked at Severus evenly. He remembered the Dark Lord's brutal tortures on his person. It was a miracle the wizard even survived. What the Potions Master was asking for wasn't unreasonable, and would hardly make a dent in Devon's holdings. He was extremely rich.

"Very well," he said rising. "Let me take you to my private showroom. You may choose whatever 'trinket' you like."

Severus nodded, then rose, following Devon through a heavily warded door. They entered a room full of glass display cases, full of finely crafted jewelry.

"Feel free to browse. Every one of these pieces is one of a kind," Devon said proudly.

The Potions Master slowly perused the offerings. He stopped in front of a case that held a small platinum charm bracelet. Tiny diamonds were set in the bracelet and there were two types of charms attached, each different and finely crafted.

"What's the story behind this piece?" Severus asked Devon who walked up and gave a wan smile.

"That charm bracelet was crafted for the unlikely situation that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor would find themselves involved," he replied.

The charms were serpents and lions. Some serpents were coiled with fangs showing, others in a state of repose, mouths closed and staring with glittering emerald eyes. They were all made of silver, while the lions were made of gold, some snarling and claws extended, others sitting majestically, glaring outward, their eyes made of diamond.

Severus considered it.

"Let me take a look at that one," he said.

This little gift ought to smooth things over with Hermione quite nicely.

* * *

Albus listened soberly, tapping the tips of his fingers together on his desk as Severus informed him of the Death Eaters' plans to create a new Dark Lord to lead them. When he finished, the Headmaster looked thoughtful. 

"This could be quite fortuitous, Severus. Bella will be forced to produce the child earlier than she planned. There is a good chance she will come to you for help, since most likely he hasn't come to full power and she will want you to come up with a way to accelerate the process," Albus said to the Potions Master.

"Yes, that is possible," Severus said, "Although she has nothing to bargain with this time."

Albus' eyes twinkled.

"She had nothing to bargain with last time either, Severus. You know all our Order members are under a Wizarding Oath not to reveal anything concerning other members. She was bluffing you," Albus said.

"Yes, I knew that, Headmaster…but as you know the method of implanting a false memory was just starting to be used. I couldn't risk Bella having placed such a memory in her mind and showing it to Voldemort. He was already suspicious of me. Besides, I had something on her as well. Her betrayal."

Albus nodded.

"Most likely she will offer you some kind of protection or position in the new regime in exchange for helping her. If she does make such an offer, Severus, accept it on the condition that you are allowed to meet and examine the boy yourself. If she balks, simply tell her you will not be able to create an elixir that will work faster if you cannot see him. She will be forced to comply."

Yes, this did seem like the perfect opportunity to find the child. It was also a good opportunity to stay away from the meetings for a short while at least, under the guise of recreating the potion.

"I believe I should lay low, Headmaster, so they will think I am hard at work with the elixir," Severus said, thinking of Hermione, "However, this will require Draco to work twice as hard to find out how the search for the new leader is going, and also to find out when Bellatrix appears. I believe he should pay Devon Rosier a visit and purchase some jewelry, working his way into his confidence. Sooner or later he will be confronted by Bella."

"Yes. I will contact him shortly. I believe a month's hiatus will suit you, Severus," Albus said, "No doubt Hermione will be happy about this."

"I should hope," Severus said a bit darkly, "My secretiveness is coming between us. Hopefully a bit of quality time will restore her faith in me."

Albus could hear the sadness in the wizard's voice, though the Potions Master did his best to sound matter-of-fact. He truly cared about Hermione. The fact that he did made his service to the Order all that much harder. He had hoped it would end with the demise of Voldemort. But it didn't. Maybe this time it would end. He looked at Albus.

"Albus, what will happen to the child once we do get him?" Severus asked the Headmaster. Albus' eyes darkened.

"I'm not sure, Severus. We have to see how dark the boy is and how twisted Bellatrix has made him. More than likely he will have to be locked away for the rest of his life in a best case scenario. In the worst case…"

Albus didn't finish. Killing a young wizard, even Voldemort's offspring, was not something he relished.

Severus nodded, then rose.

"Do you want me to contact Draco, or will you do it, sir?" Severus asked the older wizard.

"I'd better do it, Severus. Draco won't be happy you are out of the loop for the time being. If you told him, it would be rubbing salt in the wound," Albus said.

Yes, Draco wouldn't be happy about that. He had woman trouble too because of his service. Severus patted his pocket and felt the gift box with Hermione's charm bracelet in it. It was a perfect cover for his going to Rosier's shop. He could tell her he had it made especially for her and went to retrieve it. That would explain why he left so suddenly. Another lie, but a necessary one as far as Severus was concerned.

The Potions Master bid Albus goodbye and disapparated directly from his office to Hermione's flat. Apparition on school grounds was one perk from all this madness. He unlocked the door and entered to find Hermione at her writing desk, working on her paper. She looked up at him.

"You're back," she said coolly, "And imagine, lunch only took you three hours. I imagine you took small bites."

Severus scowled at the witch's sarcasm. Hermione could be quite snarky when she wanted to be. Obviously, she wanted to be.

"Actually, lunch went quite quickly. It was what happened afterwards that took up my time. As you know, I can be quite…picky when checking to see if my instructions were followed to the letter," he purred.

Hermione looked quite curious.

"Instructions? What kind of instructions?" she asked him, putting down her quill.

Severus sat down on the sofa and looked at her.

"If you would join me, I'd be happy to tell you," he said, patting the cushion next to him.

Hm. Severus was actually going to share something with her? Well, this was a red-letter day. Hermione slid back her chair, stood up and walked over to the sofa. She sat down, pushing her curly hair out of her face.

"What kind of instructions did you give him?" Hermione asked the Potions Master. Severus' black eyes washed over her before he reached into his pocket and drew out the little velvet box. Hermione stared at it for a moment.

"What is that, Severus? Jewelry?" she inquired.

He nodded.

"Yes. Something very special that I had designed specifically for you. It took weeks to complete. I had him do some last minute work on it today…which is why I was gone so long," the wizard lied, opening the box.

Hermione looked at it, then brought her hand to her mouth.

"Oh Severus…it's beautiful," she said softly, eyeing the golden lions and silver snakes.

"No more beautiful than you are, Hermione Granger. I wanted you to have this as a reminder that we two…are one," Severus said, taking the charm bracelet out of the box and placing it on her wrist.

Hermione stared down at it. Slytherin and Gryffindor together. She examined the detail on the little charms. Exquisite workmanship.

Severus took her hand.

"Hermione, I sincerely wish that there was not so much secrecy between us. I wish when I return to you that I could speak and cleanse my soul with you as my confessor. But as much as I wish I could do that, witch…I can't. For your protection and the protection of the wizarding world. It is my hope that soon this will be over, and I can retire from service to the Order and concentrate on the things, the people…the person that matters to me most. You. I long to return to you and see love in your eyes instead of resentment. Like I used to see…before my absences became longer. I know you are planning on leaving me, Hermione," Severus said.

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wet…but she didn't confirm or deny this.

"I am asking you, Hermione…to please wait before you make that decision. You are the light in my life, the whole beauty of it and…and I would be lost without you. Several years ago, I wouldn't be able to admit that…to lay myself bare before you opening myself up to hurt, pain…rejection. But because of you, I am not the man I was…not completely. Yes, I am still dark. Most people make my head ache. I am not the friendliest wizard or the most social. I still enjoy instilling terror in my students when I appear…I also enjoy instilling it in my bumbling assistant as well, but that is besides the point…"

Albus had appointed Severus a very talented assistant named Bartholomew Trimmings to cover his classes and as a Potions Master in training, since Severus planned to retire from Hogwarts as soon as he was free of the Order. He was a mild-mannered fellow, and Severus' main complaint was his pupils were not properly conditioned. Which meant they weren't afraid of Bartholomew a bit. But when Severus billowed in unannounced and demanded to know what they had learned over the weeks he was absent, the proper shakes, stammers and whitened pallors appeared class-wide.

He still had it.

"The truth is Hermione…I can't imagine you out of my life. You are an integral part of my existence now. Sometimes it feels only the thought of you waiting for me keeps me going. This situation is much different that when Voldemort was in power. Then, everyone knew the danger. I was working toward a viable end. But this is so much more insidious…so much more clandestine. The thought of you being swept into this madness frightens me. And very little frightens me, Hermione…but the thought of you being taken from me does, which is why I keep you a secret. My most precious secret."

Hermione felt her heart swelling as the wizard talked. Severus rarely spoke about how she made him feel, or how important she was to him beyond the bedroom. Yes, he told her things when he was taking her…made passionate declarations how she belonged to him and he would never let her go. Demanded she repeat who she belonged to over and over as if hearing it would cement the bond between them. But he had never said he loved her.

Hermione suspected he did, but didn't tell her so because of the dangerous work he was involved in and the secrets he was forced to keep. Love had no secrets, and perhaps the Potions Master felt he was not worthy to say those words to her as he was. He was committed, but he had a commitment beyond their relationship…a commitment that made a one on one union pale in comparison. Severus was committed to the wizarding world. No matter how much he wished he could just stop and live a normal life, he couldn't. It could mean the end of everything good.

"Hermione, this gift is nothing compared to the gift you've given me over the past two years. It is only a token of how…how…" the wizard faltered.

"How much you appreciate me?" Hermione helped him.

"Yes, appreciate you," he said softly, though his eyes said more.

Hermione stared at him.

"This is not remotely fair, Severus. You give me this beautiful bracelet, then talk to me so sweetly and sincerely…trying to persuade me to hang on to what we have…" she began.

"Yes. Hang on. That is what I want you to do, Hermione…hang on. I have a one month reprieve from my work, and I plan to spend much of it with you, witch. I know it won't make up for the times I've been absent…but I am hoping that I can soften your heart, make you reconsider the path you are thinking about taking. It won't always be this way. It will come to an end, Hermione, and my days of spying will be over for good. Then…then we can talk of other things, things more…permanent," Severus said, kissing her hand.

Hermione could hardly believe her ears.

"Severus, you wouldn't be so desperate to keep me in your grasp that you would stoop to saying what you think I want to hear to keep me from leaving you?" she asked him.

"I would do anything to keep you, Hermione," the wizard said, frowning slightly as if affronted, "Anything…but that. I do have some honor, witch."

Yes, he did. For all of his coldness, Severus Snape had always shown himself to be an honorable wizard. Whatever dishonorable little acts he did, he kept well hidden. He was a Slytherin after all and that fudged the lines a little. Okay…a lot.

Hermione could see by his eyes that her lover was sincere. She sighed, knowing she was sliding right back into the serpent's coils. She flicked one of the little serpents on her bracelet, and the emerald eyes seemed to meet hers knowingly. Despite his secretiveness and yes, even his lies…she was deeply in love with Severus Snape.

"You're going to be home a month?" she asked him.

"An entire month. No sudden disappearances," Severus assured her.

Hermione's amber eyes locked to his.

"You know I hate you having to continue to spy…but what I hate even more is how much you have to hide from me. Back when I was a student, when you disappeared we always knew you were with the Dark Lord, and you were never gone longer than a week. But now, I'm no longer a student. I'm intimately involved with you, Severus and I don't know where you go or who you're with or if I should be scared you won't return. I'm afraid one day you will leave and never come back, and I won't know what's happened to you. It tears at my heart, Severus. At my heart," Hermione said, her eyes brimming.

Severus wrapped his arms around the witch and pressed his lips to her temple.

"As long as I know you love me, I will always return to you, Hermione," he said, "With my last dying breath if need be."

Suddenly powerful magic swirled around both of them. Hermione's eyes went wide.

"An oath, Severus?" she gasped at him.

"Yes, to reassure you," he replied, "Although I have no intentions on dying in my service as a spy. I would much rather die of heart failure on top of you."

Hermione giggled. She couldn't help it. Severus was so…gods.

Besides, there is far too much living left to do. I have to play catch-up, witch. The first half of my life has been dank and dark, without hope or happiness. I do not intend the last half to be that way. I only need you to 'hang on' until my service ends. Will you do that for me, Hermione? Will you stay with me until the end of all this?"

It was as much a plea as a question. Hermione considered the Potions Master…how selflessly he gave himself for the good of others despite being alone and despised for most of his life. Now he needed someone. He needed her. It was as much an "I love you," as if he had said it straight out.

"Severus, I'll do my best to hang on…but it would be wrong to promise you I will when I'm not sure I can. Sometimes it hurts so much when you're gone so long. But I will try to stay strong for you, to stand by you," she said softly.

Severus looked at Hermione.

"Then I will have to accept that," he replied.

His heart wasn't heavy however. Severus knew how loyal Hermione was, even if she had doubts she wouldn't ever abandon him totally. There would always be hope as long as she loved him.

He pulled Hermione into his embrace, her head resting against his shoulder and they both sat quietly, each lost in their own thoughts in their own troubled worlds.

* * *

Draco and Malina were walking about the manor, the wizard showing her the wonderful artwork his family had collected over the years. He had to place silencing spells on all of the portraits before he walked Malina through. Somehow they had the uncanny ability to discern she was a muggle-born, and were quite vocal in their opinions concerning his choice of paramour. Though to Draco, Malina was much more than that. 

Like his father, Draco seemed to have a preference for tall, slender witches like his mother. But Malina was dark-haired, dark-eyed and had a rather temperamental nature. Part of his attraction to Malina was that the witch was hard to peg down. He never knew what would come out of her mouth or what she would do.

Malina had hexed him on several occasions because of arguments or because she wanted to escape him before he wanted her to leave. If Draco had his way, she would stay at the manor with him the entire time he was home. Of course he found her when she bolted. It was almost like a game between them…the hunt for her was the beginning of their foreplay. A part of Malina wanted to leave Draco alone, but it was a very small part…the part that pined for him when he was away, the part that ached, the dramatic, artist part that wrote the sad, sad, songs. Draco was in effect, Malian's muse.

But the larger part of the witch was overjoyed when he returned, but Malina was so proud that she found it hard to admit the sight of the wizard made her heart pound. His touch was as compelling to her as the Imperious spell. The mystery surrounding him, like a drug. Draco was no ordinary wizard, and no matter how long he was gone, Malina was inwardly happy at his return.

When the large phoenix feather flashed in over their heads and floated down into Draco's hands, Malina's black eyes went wide.

"I know what that is…that is an Order summons," she said, staring at Draco.

This was another piece of the puzzle.

"You work for the Order? A pureblood?" she asked to Draco, who looked quite upset. His gray eyes rested on her.

"I'm going to have to go, Malina," Draco said, remorse heavy in his voice. He didn't answer her question. The answer was obvious. He began to walk her to the front door of the manor quickly.

"You've been called in by Albus Dumbledore," Malina replied, respect in her eyes as she walked beside the tall, blonde wizard.

Draco still didn't answer her, but his jaw was very tight. It was easy to see he was displeased. He had only just come home.

She hadn't known Draco's disappearances were connected to the Order of the Phoenix. There had been quite a few write-ups about them in the newspapers, and they way they were summoned came out long ago. She studied the wizard and saw the look in his eyes.

He didn't want to go. Whatever his duty was, it was clear he wanted to shirk it…but couldn't.

"You have no idea what you're going to do, do you Draco?" she asked him softly. "You never know. That's why you disappear so suddenly without telling me. You never know what you're walking into, do you?"

Draco looked at her.

"No," he said, "But Malina, please, don't make me hunt for you for weeks when I return. That's time wasted. Time I can be with you. Stay put this time. Please."

They stopped in front of the double doors and Draco pulled Malina into his arms, kissing her deeply and hungrily, as if he were trying to suck a part of her into himself to carry with him. Malina couldn't help but feel his need for her, his desire to stay. He broke the kiss.

"I keep you in my heart every time you walk away from me," Draco said softly, "You help me stay together, Malina…knowing you are out here, knowing I have your arms to return to. Don't give up on me. I won't always be involved in this madness. One day I'll be free to coerce you into becoming Lady Malfoy."

Malina looked at Draco, shocked. Marriage? She had never even thought about getting married. She thought she was too free spirited for such a commitment.

"Lady Malfoy?" she breathed at him.

"Yes. I love you Malina. I have told you that over and over. I want you for my wife one day. You're beautiful, talented, tough and a bit dangerous. Just the kind of witch I need to keep me in line and…interested," the blonde wizard said with a smile. Gods, Draco was so handsome. He meant every word he said.

"I…I don't know what to say, Draco," Malina replied as he walked her through the doors. They stood on the stone landing facing each other.

"Then don't say anything. But keep that in your heart while I'm gone…the knowledge of how important you are to me. I don't know if it will help keep you loving me, Malina, but I hope it will make some small difference in whether you ultimately stay or go," Draco said, kissing her again, softer this time.

Malina stepped back, drinking in the wizard for a moment.

"Goodbye Draco. I'll see you…when I see you," she said to him, then disapparated.

Draco stood there for several seconds, then looked down at the phoenix feather he clutched in one hand with a frown.

"Damn it, Dumbledore…what the fuck do you want with me now?" he hissed.

Draco spun on his heel and walked by inside the manor.

He had to see the Headmaster.

* * *

"They want to what?" Draco said, rising out of the armchair and looking at the Headmaster in disbelief. 

"They want to create a new Dark Lord," Albus said, "Rosier asked Severus to prepare the elixir to transform the strongest wizard into…into what Voldemort was."

Draco clapped his hand over his face. Would this madness never end?

"We need you to get close to Rosier. When Bella hears about this, no doubt her hand will be forced. There most probably will be some kind of confrontation first. Since we know of no one else who was involved in making this decision, Rosier is our first choice. We need him to let you know if Bella has come forward," Albus said to the wizard. "So the first order of business is for you to go down to Rosier's jewelry store and make a purchase. Something expensive."

Draco sat back down and considered what Albus told him. The one bright aspect of this mess was that Bella could bring the child out into the open and they could get him and shut down the Death Eaters once and for all.

"Secondly, we need to know how the selection process is going. We expect the dueling will be witnessed by all who care to attend. I want to know who is vying to become the next Dark Lord. I only hope that Fenrir is not involved. The werewolf is a very accomplished and dangerous wizard. If he became the new Dark Lord, Voldemort's reign will look like a tea party in comparison," Albus stated, his blue eyes going dark at the thought.

"Is Professor Snape actually going to create the elixir?" Draco asked.

"Yes, he is," Albus replied, "Though he will not administer it unless he absolutely has to. He will have two flasks. One with the true elixir and one without. Which he uses will depend on the situation. It will be his call."

Draco doubted the Potions Master would give anyone the elixir if he could help it. The wizard knew first hand what service to the Dark Lord meant. It would most likely cause the cycle of torture to begin again. Draco believed Severus would rather die than be subjected to that kind of treatment again.

Albus' eyes rested on Draco. He could see the dissatisfaction on the wizard's face.

"Draco, I know it seems unfair to call you back to service when you've just returned, but surely you can see the importance of it?" Albus said to him.

Draco nodded.

"When I joined the Order and became a spy, the Professor told me what to expect. That my life wouldn't be my own any longer. How did he put it? 'The wizarding world would be my mistress.' He wasn't wrong about that. I'll just be glad when we can find this child and stop the remaining Death Eaters once and for all. I'm ready for a normal life, Headmaster," Draco said.

If Draco had not witnessed so many revels, he might have been more inclined to be a Playwizard. But he didn't want to "experiment." He wanted one witch of his own, and believed he had found her in Malina.

Albus nodded.

"Hopefully, Draco…we are coming to the pinnacle of this situation. We all would like to live a 'normal' life. I've been fighting this kind of evil for decades. I would like to be able to just enjoy my remaining years in peace as well. Let us hope we are successful in heading off this new threat," he said.

Draco sat there, planning his next move.

He had to get close to Rosier.

* * *

"He's agreed to recreate the elixir?" Elizabeth asked Devon excitedly. 

Fenrir's eyes glittered as he listened to the jeweler tell about his conversation with Severus. So, the plan was in motion now. There would be a new Dark Lord.

"It should be ready in about a month. It's time to let everyone know our plans to regroup under one leader again," Devon said. "Word of mouth will be just fine. By tomorrow, every Death Eater will know."

"I wonder how many will be willing to fight for the position?" Elizabeth said musingly. She hoped not many. She had decided to try for the position herself, despite the possibility of death.

"Add me to the list right now, Devon," Fenrir growled from his seat in the corner of the room. The flickering torchlight and shadow made the huge wizard look even more sinister than normal. His matted gray hair and whiskers gave him a wolfish look even though he wasn't transformed.

Both Elizabeth and Devon looked at the werewolf. They couldn't exclude him, though the gods knew what terrors he would loose on the wizarding world if he became the next Dark Lord.

"Consider yourself on the list, Fenrir," Devon said.

Fenrir gave Elizabeth a nasty grin, every pointed tooth showing.

"Still going for the gold, Elizabeth?" he asked her, his eyes narrowed.

Elizabeth looked at him defiantly. .

"Add me to the list too, Devon," she said, not taking her eyes off Fenrir, "I've got a dog to put to sleep."

Fenrir snarled and leapt to his feet, drawing his wand, but Elizabeth matched him speed for speed, her own wand trained directly between the wizard's yellow eyes.

Devon stood up and moved between the pair. The tension was palpable.

"Stop it…both of you. If either one of you attacks the other, you will both be disqualified. We have to do this in an orderly manner. In an arena. Now sit down, Fenrir! Elizabeth!" Devon hissed at them.

Slowly both Death Eaters returned to their seats.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you, Elizabeth," Fenrir growled, "Hopefully it will be a very physical death. I want to see the light go out of your eyes as I strangle you with my bare hands."

Elizabeth's face contorted with hatred.

"I'm going to neuter you first," she spat back at him, "then stuff your balls into your mouth before I shred you, you fucking animal."

Devon sighed.

He didn't know if these two would even make it to the arena. But…if they didn't…the chances would be better for him to assume the throne…if he decided to compete for the position. Devon wasn't crazy about the idea of dying, but all that power…and the longevity. Magical folk could live up to two hundred years if they took care of themselves, but supposedly the elixir extended one's lifespan by at least a century. The idea of staving off death that long appealed to Devon, who didn't like to think of his eventual demise. A trait he shared with Tom Riddle. He looked at the two Death Eaters sitting across from each other, hatred almost dripping from their ears.

"I've got to get back to my shop," Devon said, rising. "I suggest you two be on your way before I go. I don't want to return here and find a couple of corpses."

This little private meeting area was located far below the jewelry shop. Only a few Death Eaters knew about it.

"There would only be one corpse," both Elizabeth and Fenrir said together.

"Be that as it may, I still don't want to have to clean it up. Off you go," Devon said, eyeing the both of them.

Fenrir stood up.

"See you soon, bitch," he said to Elizabeth, then disapparating.

"Gods, I hate him," Elizabeth seethed, disapparating also.

Devon warded the room securely so no one could apparate there while he was gone, then push a stone in the wall, revealing a secret door that opened on a long stairwell. He walked through and closed it behind him.

"Just one big, happy family," he snorted as he mounted the stairs.

* * *

**WARNING: ABUSE/RAPE SCENE (ACTUAL RAPE NOT DETAILED)**

* * *

Elizabeth Yaxley lived in the country. She was a rich woman and somewhat reclusive. She had a nice little farmhouse and kept chickens, a few pigs and a cow, which she cared for just to have something to do. But her life was supremely dull except for the revels. It had been much better when Voldemort was alive and giving them missions. She would prefer there was another Dark Lord and something to work towards. It would give her life…meaning 

Elizabeth kept her home securely warded, but was more than a match for most when it came to dueling. Her magical skills were exemplary, and she could defend herself viciously. After the meeting with Devon and Fenrir she apparated home, did her few little chores and then retired to her parlor to read and listen to the wizarding wireless as she did every night.

The blonde witch was relaxed, sitting back in her cushy armchair, feet up on the ottoman, her blue eyes half-closed as she sipped a glass of red wine and listened to the classical station. Her wand rested on a small table beside the chair and she was in her nightgown and housecoat.

Suddenly, every light in the parlor went out and the wizarding wireless shut off. Elizabeth started out of her near stupor and quickly felt for her wand on the table.

It wasn't there.

"Shit," she thought, easing out of her chair quietly. What the fuck had happened?

Then she heard a noise in the corner of the room.

"Who's there?" she called, taking a defensive stance. Elizabeth was a deadly fighter too. It was required by Voldemort that every Death Eater to be trained in the martial arts.

No one answered, but Elizabeth knew she wasn't alone.

Elizabeth slowly backed up until she felt the wall against her back.

"I have a weapon!" she called out, "A dagger. I know how to use it!"

Still no answer.

Slowly Elizabeth began to ease toward the floo, cursing herself for not lighting it earlier. There were a number of pokers in a holder next to it, all with sharp points. If she could just get hold of one of them…

"You won't make it to the fireplace," a voice growled in the darkness.

The hairs on the back of Elizabeth's neck stood up.

Fenrir.

He had disapparated to her home directly from Devon's secret room and hidden himself, watching as the witch unwarded her house and let herself in. After a few minutes, Elizabeth came back outside and walked over to the barn to look in on her animals.

The witch didn't ward the house, and the werewolf slipped in. He had been inside for hours, just watching her…anticipating the moment he would surprise her. Getting her wand had been no problem. Fenrir could move with the silence and stealth of a wolf after all. He simply picked it up as she was relaxing with her eyes closed.

"I have two choices, witch. To rape you…or kill you. I'm inclined to do both," the werewolf said, moving to the right quickly and silently so Elizabeth would be disoriented when he spoke again. He could see her clearly because of his werewolf blood.

"I'd rather you just killed me then, Fenrir. It figures you would steal my wand you fucking coward," Elizabeth hissed. Suddenly she made a run for the fireplace.

Fenrir lunged forward, hitting the witch with his full weight and slamming her into the wall. Dazed and in pain, Elizabeth felt the wizard's large hands encircle her throat and start to squeeze.

"Not talking so much shit now, eh witch?" he snarled.

Then he adjusted his hold on Elizabeth's throat and with one hand, pulled out his wand and removed the dampening spell he placed on the room. The torches relit and the wizarding wireless began to play again. He dropped the wand on the floor and pressed his whiskery face close to hers.

"Killing you now would be very satisfying," he said in a low voice.

Elizabeth wanted to gag. His breath smelled like old blood.

"But Devon would suspect, and even if I disposed of your body…I might still be disqualified from participating in the dueling," the werewolf breathed, his eyes hard. "But on a brighter note, if you came after me for any reason…you would be disqualified…so…rape it is."

Fenrir tugged at the sash of Elizabeth's housecoat, and the witch began to struggle desperately. She tried to take him down by hooking her leg behind his and pushing him backwards, but Fenrir widened his stance, punched her in the side of the head, then shook her viciously.

"Go ahead…make it worse, Elizabeth," he hissed as she buckled. That blow had been hard, making the witch see stars. A bruise formed from her left temple to below her eye. She was no match for the werewolf in a physical fight. He was simply too strong due to his nature.

"Nice color," Fenrir said about the bruising before resuming his attack on her sash.

He opened her housecoat, then yanked it off one shoulder, then the other, pulling the sleeves halfway down her arms. He grasped a breast and squeezed it hard, Elizabeth crying out from the pain.

"Yesss," he snarled at her, grasping the front of her nightgown and ripping it, exposing her breasts and belly. Elizabeth screamed in horror and revulsion as he gripped her bare breast.

Fenrir smiled, but it was more of a baring of teeth than a true human smile.

"I'm going to give you a reason to neuter me, bitch," he said, slapping Elizabeth hard and flinging her to the floor.

* * *

**END OF RAPE SCENE**

* * *

Hermione lay next to Severus, who was sound asleep and snoring, his large nostrils pulsating with every rousing exhalation. The Potions Master was down for the count, several firewhiskeys combined with a very ardent round of sex taking their toll. 

Hermione stared at his pale profile, having a battle of conscience. One she was losing. Being involved with a man who was a Slytherin had its price, the price being the absorption of some of his principles by association. Hermione knew what she was considering was wrong…but if she didn't do something, she felt she would go mad. She loved Severus, she truly did…and understood his reasons for secrecy. But Hermione never liked being out of the loop. She was a natural snoop after all, her entire life dedicated to finding answers. Even answers she wasn't supposed to find.

Carefully, she reached out and pushed Severus' head softly. The wizard gave a terrible snort, frowned and turned his head to the side, facing away from her, but remained in a deep sleep. Only when he was with Hermione did the Potions Master sleep in such a manner. Subconsciously, he felt safe with the witch. In any other situation, he slept lightly, wand in hand, the slightest noise bringing him to instant consciousness and battle-readiness. Normally, this was a good thing.

But not tonight.

Hermione took a deep breath and swallowed down the guilt that tried to rise and thwart her.

"Legilimens," she whispered, entering the sleeping wizard's mind.

Hermione looked about. Normally, the images of a person's memories were clearly visible, but Severus' mind was full of darkness, a few flickers of light appearing here and there. His was no ordinary mind. Years of being a spy had made him wary and even in his sleep his thoughts were cloaked in Occlumency. This was not something he taught himself…it was his subconscious mind's way of protecting him. If the wizard's mind was left open with all the secrets it contained, someone could access it and he could be killed. Self preservation was in full effect.

"Damn it, Severus," Hermione said to herself, walking through the empty space, "Even in your sleep you keep your secrets."

But she was determined to find out something…anything.

Severus let out a huge snore and Hermione pulled out for a moment, staring down at him. No, he was still asleep. She waited several minutes, then slipped back into his mind. She was in incorporeal form and looked as she did in the real world.

"I need to do something to stimulate his mind without waking him," she said to herself, "If I try talking to him like this and he focuses on me…he will wake up the moment I ask him anything about what he's doing, because I have no right to do that."

Hermione tapped her finger to her chin for several moments, then smiled wickedly as she figured out how to approach this problem. She was in the world of thought, and thought was as mutable and changeable as water. She looked down at herself and concentrated.

Hermione's form changed. Her robes became bright orange with blue stars and her head topped off with a matching pointed hat. She grew taller and thinner, losing all her curves. Her curly chestnut hair straightened, lengthened and turned white. A long, white beard sprouted, reaching below her waist and her nose grew long and crooked. Her eyebrows bushed up, her amber eyes turned blue and began to twinkle. A pair of half-moon glasses rested on her nose and she adjusted them before looking down at herself.

She was the spitting image of Albus Dumbledore. A very outrageously dressed Albus Dumbledore. Still, his appearance would seem quite normal to Severus, who was used to the old wizard's sometimes gaudy attire.

Hermione considered how Albus might address Severus to get information from him. She didn't want to ask too many questions or it might trigger the Potions Master to awaken. She thought about it, then took a deep breath.

"Severus, please give me an update on the current situation," she said.

At first, nothing happened. Then slowly, images began to appear around her. He and Draco standing against a wall as a revel went on around them, then the pair killing suffering victims with the Avada Kedavra curse, their faces stoic.

Then there were conversations. Mostly about where the next revels were to be held. Then she heard the name of Bellatrix LeStrange. Severus and Draco were looking for her, had to find her. Why?

The pair attended revel after revel, sleeping in the houses of fellow Death Eaters, sharing meals, drinking and pretending to enjoy themselves. Neither participated in any of the twisted acts, Severus feigning impotency as a result of a potions experiment gone bad and Draco claiming to have contracted a terrible new wizarding STD that he had healers working on day and night. Ooh, that lie had to be embarrassing.

Devon Rosier appeared. He wanted the elixir to create a new Dark Lord from among the Death Eaters. Oh no! And what was this? Voldemort's child? Voldemort had a son and Bella had him? Oh dear gods!

Hermione pulled out of Severus' mind, clapping her hand over her mouth in horror as she looked down on the wizard. No wonder he didn't share any of this with her or anyone. It was too horrible. The Death Eaters were trying to raise another Voldemort, and Bellatrix LeStrange had a blood descendant of the despot in her clutches, no doubt intending on placing him on his father's throne. The wizarding world was blissfully unaware of this. If word got out…there would be panic, and not only that but most likely those involved would go deep underground and know a spy was in their midst.

Severus would be the first person they would blame since he worked for Albus. Most likely the Death Eaters wouldn't wait for proof. They had a "better safe than sorry" policy. Severus would be killed just because of the possibility.

"Oh Severus," Hermione breathed down at him.

Suddenly the wizard roused, his eyes fluttering open. Hermione quickly composed herself, hoping her horror wouldn't show. Severus' black eyes shifted toward her.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he asked her sleepily, shifting toward the witch a little.

"I just woke up. I have to use the loo," Hermione lied, climbing over him and exiting the bed. Severus' eyes rested on her buttocks as she walked into the bathroom. She was naked.

"Mmm," he said to himself, stretching luxuriously.

Severus sat up and poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher on the nightstand and drank it down. Hermione flushed the loo, washed her hands and walked out of the bathroom. Severus was sitting up, resting against the headboard, his dark eyes resting on her body. The sheet was drawn up around his waist, but Hermione could see it jumping slightly in his loin area as she approached.

Severus suddenly yanked the sheet away, his pale member standing at attention as he smirked at her.

"Need a bit of help getting back to sleep?" he asked her, "I can give you a 'shot.'"

Hermione couldn't help laughing as she stopped by the side of the bed and looked at his huge erection.

"That's quite a needle," she responded, though she did feel a bit of heat. It wasn't the Potions Master's readiness that caused it, however. It was a desire to feel closer to him after what she found out. How much pressure was the wizard under to find Voldemort's child and stop the creation of a new Dark Lord?

Hermione climbed into the bed and straddled Severus' lap, trapping his erection between their bodies, wrapping her arms around the wizard's neck and kissing him tenderly. Severus felt the love in her kiss and when she pulled away, stared at her for a moment.

"That was quite a kiss," he said to her.

"You're quite a wizard," Hermione breathed at him, her eyes full of love.

Severus wondered what he had done to inspire such tenderness in the witch. The way she was looking at him was wonderful, but slightly disturbing. Usually he had to do something nauseatingly sweet to get Hermione to look at him the way she was now.

"What's going on, Hermione?" he asked her, frowning slightly.

"I've decided I'm going to stay with you, Severus…until the bitter end," she replied. "I love you so much. No matter how long you're gone…I'll be here waiting for you when you return. You can count on that now. I'm not leaving you."

Now that Hermione knew what the Potions Master was dealing with and how important it was, she felt able to make a commitment to the wizard. She also felt a great remorse for adding to his burdens by her coolness and the unspoken threat of leaving him. It was so obvious he needed her.

Severus stared at Hermione for a moment, then crushed her to him in a powerful embrace, his heart pounding against hers. The Potions Master didn't speak for several minutes, but Hermione could feel his emotion as he held her. Finally he released her.

"Thank you, Hermione," he said softly, the silkiness of his voice slightly hoarsened.

Yes, what the witch said had affected him deeply. Hermione was his and would remain his no matter what. A bit of the weight he felt lifted as he held the witch, staring into her eyes. He pulsed against her belly. He wanted her. Now.

Hermione felt the throb and smiled at him softly.

"Shall we consummate our new agreement?" she asked the wizard.

"Yessss," Severus hissed at her, locking his hands behind her back as she leaned back and shifted so she could mount him. Severus groaned as her tightness slid over him, the angle of his penetration absolutely delicious. Hermione's eyes went half-lidded as he filled her with his hardness.

"I love you," she said again, beginning to move, thrusting her pelvis back and forth slowly, shagging the wizard.

Severus' eyes rolled up into his head when she whirled her hips around him, rotating his organ inside her soft, sweet body. She began thrusting again, Severus content to let her control the act for now, the wizard crooning with pleasure as her sleeve caressed his length, tightening and releasing as Hermione used her inner muscles. She was a far cry from the innocent little virgin he had taken in his lab two years ago. She applied herself to sex as ardently as she did to anything else in her life. And she was exquisite.

Severus fell to her throat, kissing, sucking and licking it passionately, his pale hands caressing every inch of her body, savoring the softness of her skin, burying his fingers in her curling mane. Every inch of Hermione Granger was a blessing, a gift, a place of solace from the storm that was his existence, and as she moved over him Severus felt as if he could live forever with her in his life. She was the fire that fueled his soul now. She would never be extinguished.

The wizard locked his mouth to Hermione's lips, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her, his passion taking over as he began to thrust up into the witch, hitting her deeply, trying to bury himself in her body….in her love, Hermione beginning to cry out against his lips with every stroke.

Suddenly Severus released her mouth and straightened his legs, pushing the witch down so she lay flat on her back. He was still inside her. The wizard leaned forward, catching Hermione by the waist and pulling her back and forth over him as he stared down at her jerking body, her full breasts bouncing deliciously, her skin covered in a slight sheen of perspiration. She was crying out his name, and Severus growled.

"Yes, witch…yes," he purred at her, drawing her over him faster and harder, plowing into her body, claiming every inch of it as his own. He stopped stroking for a moment to bend further and kiss and lick her breasts before resuming his possession, Hermione arching and babbling as she approached climax. Severus' hands shifted from her waist to her shoulders, his hips shifting back and forth, pounding into her, Hermione howling, her voice becoming shriller the way it did when she was about to come.

Severus felt her heating up under his hands and pulled her up again, wrapping his pale arms around her body, every vein bulging as he lifted her up and down, driving into her passionately, determined to take her over. Her breasts slid up and down against his chest, her head flung back, her eyes unfocused as the Potions Master took her to the pinnacle.

"Come for me, Hermione" he panted at the witch, "Show me how I make you feel. Show me who you belong to…"

Hermione let out a shriek and locked down on Severus, who let out a howl of his own as her hot release washed over him, triggering his own release. He locked his mouth to hers, their tongues entwining as their bodies and souls blended in bliss, pleasure rolling over them, lifting them to the heights and holding them there for one eternal moment before they plummeted back to earth, hanging on to each other, shuddering and quaking as they fell back into separate beings…separate, but still connected.

Severus held Hermione tightly, his face buried in her hair as the last delicious pulses of his release died down, the scent of jasmine, perspiration and sex filling his nostrils. Hermione still pulsed around him, soft, wet and comforting. The wizard sighed with satisfaction and kissed Hermione, who was rather limp as she felt Severus softening inside of her.

"I'll never tire of you," the Potions Master said, brushing Hermione's hair out of her face. A few tendrils stuck to it. She looked at him, her amber eyes sleepy and soft.

"I won't let you," she replied rather hoarsely, "If I have to reinvent myself every day."

Holding her carefully, Severus slid down in the bed, making sure Hermione was able to straighten her legs. He held her on top of him, her hair draping over his shoulders as he adjusted his head on the pillows.

"You have to reinvent nothing, witch. You are already exactly what I need. Stay as you are…brilliant, driven, argumentive and aggravating. It's what I…I like about you," Severus said, hedging a little. That "L" word was daunting.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him.

"What you 'like' about me?" she asked him.

Severus looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Yes," he replied, swallowing a bit. He knew he should have said something stronger…deeper than what he did.

But Hermione understood. She let him suffer for a little bit, then kissed him lightly and affectionately on the lips.

"It's what I 'like' about you too," she said, rolling off of him.

Severus slipped his arm under her shoulders and pulled Hermione into his side, savoring her softness and warmth. He kissed her temple, then let out another satisfied and rather relieved sigh as her head rested against his shoulder.

"Then we are in agreement," he said sleepily, his eyes growing heavy.

"Yes we are, Severus Snape," Hermione replied, her voice heavy with sleep. The wizard's residual ache pulsed inside her, but she was used to it.

And loved it.

Hermione let out a sigh of her own and snuggled against Severus, who was already asleep and letting out the beginning noises of what would become snores. He couldn't help it. With a nose that large a lot of air moved through those nasal passages. Hermione was used to that too.

It was a noise she could live with for the rest of her life.

* * *

A/N: Ah, sneaky, brilliant Hermione. I had to tinker with the Legilimency aspect a bit, making entering a sleeping mind a bit like entering a pensieve…but I've done it before in a number of stories. Now she knows the deal and is able to commit herself to the wizard. But what a secret to know. Still, that won't save them from the upcoming situation…heh heh. It's going to be a lulu too. But that is still a few chapters away. Thanks for reading. 


	3. Part 3

**_WARNING: This chapter contains a revel scene with several disturbing scenarios. Not explicit but still disturbing._**

* * *

**A Song for Severus Part 3**

Devon Rosier was sitting behind the shop counter drawing a design for a new piece on a parchment when the door let out a warning chime seconds before it opened. He looked up to see Draco entering. He was dressed in dark green robes and sporting his father's ring and silver-tipped cane. Devon smiled. Draco's appearance definitely meant he could expect a good sale.

"Ah, welcome Draco," Devon said to the blonde wizard, "It's been quite a while since I've seen you…in the capacity of a customer. How can I help you today?"

Devon's greeting was a thinly veiled reference to seeing Draco at the revels.

"I'm in the market for a ring. Something…different," the wizard said.

Devon eyed Lucius' ring.

"Something of your own, I imagine," he commented.

"Yes," Draco replied.

Devon nodded and looked thoughtful. Then he pulled out his wand and securely warded the shop door.

"Come with me into my office. We can discuss your needs in comfort," Devon said to the wizard.

Draco walked around the counter and followed Devon through a door into his office. A huge hardwood desk dominated the room, and three plush armchairs sat before it. A number of books about precious metals, stones and jewelry rested on shelves, a beautiful, large oriental rug covered most of the floor and a marble floo was embedded in the right wall, a small flame crackling within. Most likely it was warded against uninvited visitors.

Draco sat down in the middle armchair. It was extremely comfortable. Devon took a seat behind the desk, removed a few sheets of parchment and an inkbottle from a drawer, then plucked a quill out of a stand. He opened the inkbottle and dipped the quill into it.

"All right Draco. I imagine that a serpent will figure in the ring design, you being a Slytherin…"

Draco nodded.

"Platinum setting. And emerald. High quality," the young wizard said, then looked thoughtful. "I would also like a small rose made out of ruby incorporated into the design."

Devon looked at Draco thoughtfully.

"A red rose made of ruby. Interesting. Yes, I could do that. Is the ring for you, Draco?" Devon asked.

"Yes," the wizard replied.

Hm. The rose must have a special significance. Devon jotted down the information, then looked up at Draco.

"Give me a week to create several designs for you to consider," Devon said to him.

"That's fine," Draco said, rising as if to go.

"Wait Draco. Please sit down. I would like to speak to you about other matters," Devon said to him.

Draco knew this was coming. He reseated himself as Devon cast a powerful silencing spell around the room. That only meant one thing. Death Eater business.

"Draco, it has been decided a new Dark Lord will be chosen from among our ranks. We are too scattered and need to be unified with a purpose. Voldemort's dream of Pureblood Superiority and the cleansing of the Wizarding World must not die," the wizard said.

Draco feigned surprise, then said, "Agreed, Devon. I've felt lately that all we've been doing is spinning our wands. We do need to get back to our roots. But how do you propose to do this without causing a riot in our ranks? Everyone will want a chance at being the leader."

Devon smiled.

"Only those truly committed will compete for the position, considering that several duels to the death are required. We are searching for the two strongest wizards or witches in our ranks. Elimination…will be permanent. The final two will battle only to overcome the other. The winner will take the elixir that transformed Tom Riddle into Voldemort. If he or she dies as a result of not being able to handle the magical changes, then the runner-up will take the elixir," he said.

"What if he dies too?" Draco asked, an eyebrow arched.

Devon shrugged.

"The process begins all over again," the wizard said.

Draco processed this.

"But Devon, most likely no one will come forward for a second round, particularly if everyone in the first died," he said. The plan sounded incredibly stupid to him.

"Possibly in the second round, fighting to the death won't be required. Just winning. And we will select more runner-ups. We'll figure out something. We need to find someone," Devon said darkly. He didn't like Draco pointing out the faults in their plans. He was as arrogant as his father.

"Maybe I'll wait for the second round then," Draco said with a nasty smirk. He knew he had ruffled Devon's robes. "Has anyone come forward yet?"

Devon nodded.

"Elizabeth Yaxley and Fenrir Greyback," he replied.

A look of horror fixed itself on Draco's face.

"Fenrir? Are you all mad? He's a werewolf with an attitude! He'll turn every one of us into werewolves if he becomes the Dark Lord!" Draco said incredulously.

How stupid were they? It was a well known fact that Fenrir did not join Voldemort because of ideological reasons, but for access to victims. He would like nothing better than to create an army of werewolves and contaminate the entire wizarding world.

"Fenrir is a Death Eater and a pureblood. We can't deny him his right to compete for the throne. Hopefully, someone will kill him in the competition," Devon said with a sigh.

Shit. Fenrir Greyback. Something had to be done about this. If that crazy werewolf should become the next Dark Lord, all hell would break loose. He'd be a thousand times worse than Voldemort.

Draco decided to take a stab in the dark.

"Does Bellatrix know about this? You know she claims the Dark Lord is going to return. She's going to be livid and protest this," Draco said.

Devon's brows furrowed.

"Bella is a Death Eater like any other. If she doesn't like it, she can compete herself. She's mad anyway. The Dark Lord is dead and gone. He's not coming back," he snapped in irritation.

Bella was like a burr on Devon's ass, spreading her crazy claims throughout the ranks. She actually had a few Death Eaters believing her delusions. Well, he'd deal with her whenever she appeared. It had been a couple of months since he'd seen her. Sometimes revels overlapped, being held in two or three locations at the same time, so running into her was a matter of chance. Generally though, Bellatrix contacted Elizabeth to find out what revels were being held and where, though that was no guarantee the witch would show up. It was more like she was keeping track.

Draco shrugged then stood up.

"Still, you know how Bella is, Devon. If she doesn't like something, she'll find a way to throw a wand in the works," he said, fastening his cloak.

"I'll handle Bella," Devon said darkly, "By the way, there's to be a revel tonight at Pumbleberry's manor. I trust you will be there, even if you…"

Here, Devon's eyes flicked to Draco's loins. He too had heard about the terrible STD he had contracted.

"…can't participate. There's still the entertainment value," the jeweler finished.

"Yes, there is that," Draco agreed. "I will be there."

"Good," Devon said, rising, walking around his desk and opening the door for Draco, who stepped through. They walked back into the shop area and Devon removed the wards, then shook Draco's hand.

"As I said, the preliminary designs for your ring will be ready in about a week, though I am sure I will see you before then. There's a good chance this will be a rotating revel and a wizard with your 'leisure' time will most likely not miss out on the fun. I will bring the designs to you if you are otherwise engaged," Devon said solicitously.

"That will be fine, Devon. I will see you tonight," Draco replied, taking his leave of the wizard and exiting the shop. He drew a deep breath once outside, his stomach knotting up at the thought of attending the revel tonight without Severus. At least when the Potions Master was there, he had someone to stick with of a like mind. Now, he would be forced to mingle with the others.

Draco shuddered as he remembered Peter Pettigrew calling to him as he drilled a screaming muggle girl of about fifteen viciously. Draco had been leaning against a wall waiting for Severus to return with drinks when the fat, ratty little wizard squeaked his name.

Draco looked over to see the wizard kneeling on a dirty mattress and the young girl on her knees and face first in the filthy cushion before him. Peter was twisting one of her arms behind her back as he buggered her with all his might

"How's…this… Draco?" the fat wizard called, holding up his paunch with one hand and bouncing grotesquely against the howling girl's buttocks as he speared her. Peter was naked, hairy and greasy with perspiration. It was disgusting.

Draco was forced to give Peter a smile and nod when what he really wanted to do was hit him with a Killing curse. The sadistic pig.

God, Draco hoped tonight would pass quickly.

The wizard walked to a public apparition point and disapparated to the Manor. It made no sense to seek out Malina.

He had work to do.

* * *

Elizabeth Yaxley looked at her face in the mirror. Most of the bruising was gone. She had very expensive and powerful healing elixirs in her medicinal stores, and she needed them after Fenrir finished with her. 

The werewolf had not scratched or bitten her, though he did beat and humiliate her unmercifully as he raped her repeatedly and forced her to perform all manner of perversities on him.

"You won't be able to meet my eyes next time you see me, you bitch," he growled as he sodomized her.

The reason Fenrir didn't bite Elizabeth was because that would have made her a werewolf as well, and could be beneficial when he faced her in the arena. He didn't scratch her because werewolf wounds never healed properly, and the scratches would be proof of his attack. Not that he needed to worry. There were no "champions" among the Death Eaters. No one would make him pay for what he'd done to the witch. Only if she reported it to the Ministry, and they were after him already. If she gave away his hiding places, others would be taken as well, and Elizabeth deemed a traitor. Besides, if he was taken…she wouldn't get her opportunity to kill him.

Elizabeth wanted to kill him more than she wanted to take her next breath. The competition didn't matter anymore, and she would kill every opponent just to have her chance at Fenrir. He would die a humiliating and painful death if she had her way.

He left her naked, broken and curled on the floor after urinating on her, howling as he did so. He demolished her parlor too. Horrible didn't begin to describe what he put her through. He was a huge man with a huge organ. He also didn't have a love affair with soap and water either and smelled just like an animal. Worse than an animal actually.

Elizabeth lay curled on the floor for about an hour and a half before she managed to crawl on her hands and knees to the bathroom, pull herself up by the sink and get to her stores. It took several bottles of healing and pain potion before she could stand properly, and she had to drink pain potion through the night before the monster's ache diminished enough for her to function properly. Even with the pain potion, using the loo was excruciating, and for the time being, Elizabeth was only eating broth so her body didn't have to pass much bulk.

As she was studying her face, there was a knock on her front door as a warning ward went off. Picking up her wand, Elizabeth walked through her restored parlor and stopped, moving to the side of the door, her wand at the ready.

"Who is it?" she called.

"It's Bella, Elizabeth…open up," Bellatrix replied from the other side of the door.

Elizabeth unwarded the door and opened it, letting the witch in.

"Hello, Elizabeth…I was just…" Bella began, then stopped as she looked at her fellow Death Eater's bruised face.

"What happened to you?" Bella asked her.

"I tangled with Fenrir," Elizabeth said, walking into the parlor. Bella followed her.

"Fenrir can be brutal…but…if you like that kind of thing...he's perfect," Bellatrix said. She had tangled with Fenrir on occasion too, but not the way Elizabeth had.

Elizabeth snorted, but didn't tell Bella she had been raped by him. She was too proud to admit she couldn't defend herself against the werewolf. Bella sat down on the sofa.

"Any news I should know about?" Bella asked Elizabeth, who smirked slightly. Bella was going to have a troll when she found out what was going on.

"Just a little. There's going to be a competition to choose a new Dark Lord from among the ranks," Elizabeth said with narrowed blue eyes.

"What? What?" Bella screamed, jumping up off the sofa. "You are lying. They would never do that…who would dare to try and fill Voldemort's robes? What unworthy…"

"Apparently, anyone who wants to. They only have to sign up and fight to the death. The two left standing will then face off to defeat each other…not kill. Then the winner will drink the elixir that transformed Tom Riddle into Voldemort and assume the throne," Elizabeth explained concisely.

Bella fell silent for a moment, her pale skin becoming redder and redder as she stared at Elizabeth before she finally exploded.

"They cannot do this! There is already one who can rightfully claim that throne!" she hissed.

Elizabeth frowned.

"Who?" she asked Bella, who focused on her as if she'd forgotten the witch was there.

"Don't worry about it," she snapped. "Where are they getting the elixir?"

"Severus is brewing it as we speak," Elizabeth replied.

Bella's eyes narrowed.

"Severus!" she spat, "He still betrays the Dark Lord."

"Bella, what the hell are you talking about? Severus can't betray Voldemort…Voldemort is dead," she said to the witch reasonably.

"I didn't say Voldemort…I said 'the Dark Lord," Bella replied to her, then said, "Never mind about that Elizabeth…I know Devon is behind this, this travesty! When is the next revel?"

"Tonight. At Pumbleberry's manor. And they are going to have a couple of muggle men this time," Elizabeth said.

She was going to attend, though sex was the last thing on her mind. Still there would be males to torture in lieu of Fenrir. Displaced aggression would have to do…for now. She'd finish the unfortunate muggles off after the others were done having their pleasure with them. First…castration…slowly. Then, neutering. Then…

"I'll be there," Bellatrix said, rising, a black scowl on her face. "And I'm going to stop this competition one way or another."

Elizabeth looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Bella, we need a leader to unite under. Surely you see that," Elizabeth said reasonably.

"Of course I see that. I've always seen that," Bella said, "But the Dark Lord should not come from the ranks. An ordinary wizard will never do. The next Dark Lord must be born and bred for greatness."

"Tom Riddle was an ordinary wizard until he took Severus' elixir," Elizabeth reminded Bella, who snarled in response.

"He was NEVER ordinary!" Bella hissed, her eyes wild and looking as if she wanted to draw her wand on Elizabeth.

Bella had been Voldemort's most devoted servant until she saw that he would never make her his queen. She still had a warped view of the despot however.

"Calm down, Bella. I know how you felt about him," Elizabeth said soothingly, "But this is the view most have about him. That his power was created, not something he initially began with. If he could gain such power, so can another witch or wizard."

Bella scowled at her.

"Witch? What do you mean 'witch?" she demanded.

"I'm competing too," Elizabeth said.

It took a great effort for Bella not to pull her wand and cast the Killing curse on Elizabeth for even suggesting such a thing.

"You?" Bella spat, "Don't be a fool, Elizabeth. You are too weak. Completely unsuitable to rule."

Elizabeth leveled her eyes on Bella. They weren't friends. The only reason they associated was because they were both Death Eaters. If she did become the next Dark Lady, Bellatrix LeStrange would pay for her doubt…in stripes.

"We'll see, Bella. We'll see," she said evenly.

The two witches locked eyes for a moment, blue eyes to gray eyes, dislike clearly evident in both their gazes.

Then Bella said, "If I were you, Elizabeth…I would withdraw from the competition. When the real Dark Lord returns, he will be highly displeased with everyone who coveted his throne. He will seek revenge upon them."

"I'll take my chances, Bella," Elizabeth replied.

"You're a fool, then," Bella hissed at her, walking toward the front door. "A stupid, foolish, fool."

The witch let herself out. Elizabeth warded the door behind her, then sighed.

Now she had Bellatrix to worry about as well as Fenrir. The witch was known to turn violent when things didn't go her way. In this case, things weren't going to go her way and most likely she would target those she knew were competing for the throne.

Currently, she was the only one Bella knew about.

Elizabeth sighed again.

Maybe she wouldn't go to the revel tonight.

* * *

Severus lay in the bed beside a sleeping Hermione, frowning slightly as he looked down at her. He had some day with the witch. First, she awakened him at eleven, surprising him with breakfast in bed. She had already eaten, but sat on the edge of the bed and watched him eat, her eyes soft. Afterwards, she insisted on giving him a bath and washing his hair. This was a rarity to say the least. Hermione washed his hair first, and while bathing him was pulled into the sudsy water by the Potions Master and thoroughly ravished. 

Then, later in the day…she let him bugger her. Hermione hardly ever gave herself to the wizard that way, and although Severus enjoyed himself immensely, he was beginning to get suspicious. When she blew him in the kitchen later on, Severus knew something was going on. Hermione was not usually this sexually accommodating. True, he had been gone a month, but still…Hermione was acting uncharacteristically. Severus knew that whenever she acted out of character…the witch was up to something.

The truth was Hermione was trying to ease her own guilt about how hard a time she gave Severus before she knew exactly what he was working on. Severus was quite a randy wizard, but she kept him on a short leash most of the time or she'd never get anything done when he was around. But her loosening of the wire, so to speak had succeeded in making the Potions Master question her motives. When he commented on how "agreeable" she was being, Hermione told him that she was just feeling very randy and perhaps she was ovulating.

"You ovulate every month. You never act like this," he responded, frowning at her. Hermione turned on the wizard and put her hands on her hips.

"Are you complaining? I can turn the temperature WAY down if you are, Severus," she said pointedly.

The Potions Master could have sworn an icy blast hit him when Hermione said that.

"No. I wasn't complaining. I was just…just making an observation," he replied.

"It's duly noted," Hermione sniffed, exiting the living room.

Severus let out a sigh, but still believed something was going on with the witch. Hermione was quite sneaky, one of her more Slytherin-like qualities.

Now the wizard looked down at her sleeping form. She'd be out for a couple of hours, because the Potions Master made sure she was thoroughly exhausted from their last round of sex. Normally, Severus would be asleep as well, but puzzling over Hermione's actions today had him a bit wired. Besides, he needed her in a deep sleep for what he was going to do.

"Legilimens," he breathed, entering Hermione's mind.

It was full of all kinds of images, flickering and flashing, making the wizard feel a bit disoriented.

"How does she even think with all this going on?" he said to himself, walking through her mind and studying the memories and thoughts of his lover. Recent memories were always at the forefront, and Severus looked through them until he found one of Hermione sitting up while he was asleep in bed. He focused on it, and the other images around it faded.

He watched as Hermione pushed his head and his sleeping image snorted and faced away from her. She was testing how soundly he was asleep. Severus got a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach as she leaned over him.

"Legilimens," she whispered.

Why…the little minx. Sneaking into his mind while he was asleep. Severus had to think for a moment. Why hadn't he woke up at her initial intrusion?

Oh. Firewhiskey. Damn it.

Severus smirked as he saw Hermione mentally enter his mind. It was blank except for flashes of light. She couldn't have found out anything. Then his eyes narrowed as she transformed into Albus. Oh, she was smart. Too smart for her own good.

Severus watched as she framed a statement that made his mind respond. Images concerning his work appeared and the witch saw part of what he was doing while away and what his mission was. To find Bella and the child.

Severus pulled out of Hermione's mind and stared down at her, not knowing whether to strangle her for invading his privacy or praise her for being so resourceful and cunning. It was a very, very Slytherin act.

Now he understood why she let him shag her with impunity.

She felt guilty.

Well, the dragon was out of the cave now. At least he understood her sudden change of heart, and felt a bit relieved she did know what was going on. She would stay with him.

Severus studied Hermione. She looked so innocent lying there, her hair partially hiding her features. Then his eyes narrowed. Still, she couldn't get away with doing what she'd done. So the witch was feeling guilty and trying to absolve her guilt sexually?

Severus pursed his lips.

He'd help her absolve it all right.

After all…confession was supposed to be good for the soul.

* * *

Two Death Eaters struggled with a wildly kicking, cursing muggle woman who spat and hissed at them, despite being slapped twice and punched in the belly once. They were bringing her to the revel. 

"Damn it, Fredrick, why don't you just stun her?" Wooten panted, stretching out the woman's arm so she couldn't reach him with her feet.

She spit on him and he backhanded her, which only made the brunette scream with rage and try to stomp on his foot. She was in jeans, a t-shirt and trainers. They had grabbed her when she was closing up a muggle sweet shop.

"I like them feisty," Fredrick replied, wrenching the screaming woman, a nasty smile on his face. "I'm going to do her first."

"You're going to have to beat her half to death just to get her to lie still," Wooten replied, hanging on to the muggle.

"You let me go, you bloody bastards!" Eloise Hedgeberry screamed, kicking at both masked men as they dragged her through a hidden door in the back of Pumbleberry's manor, then descending a long flight of stairs. Both had a secure hold on her arms, but the woman lunged forward as they were three or four steps from the bottom and they all tumbled forward, the wizards losing their grip on her as they hit the floor.

Eloise scrambled to her feet and kicked Wooten in the balls before she fled down the torch lit corridor. She could hear Fredrick laughing hysterically behind her at Wooten's condition as he curled over on his knees, both hands clutching at his wounded nads.

"I'm going to kill that muggle," he said through clenched teeth.

"Not before I stick my tool in her," Fredrick said, "Come on. Let's catch her before she walks into the revel herself. Then someone else will take first stab."

The corridor led to the large room where the revel was held, and Eloise was running straight for it. Fredrick raced behind her, but Wooten…he couldn't do much of anything but stagger. She got him good.

Fenrir Greyback was walking up the corridor when Eloise ran right into him. The werewolf caught her by the arm.

"What's this?" he asked, hoisting her up by it. "A muggle?"

"You let me go!" Eloise screamed at him, slapping his bearded face as hard as she could, then kicking at him with both her legs. Fenrir could see the bruises on her face. Someone had been trying to tame her. He grinned at the woman with his pointed teeth.

Fenrir lowered her back to the ground, but held on to her arm. She pulled away desperately, then started beating on Fenrir, who ducked his head and raised his arm to protect his face, still smiling at the angry muggle woman. She had heart, he had to give her that. Most were scared to death when they arrived at a revel.

"You know you're going to be raped and killed, don't you muggle?" he said to her as she continued attacking him.

"I figured that," she hissed, kicking Fenrir in the shin and making the werewolf wince, "but I hope I'm killed first…or get a chance to kill one of you before I die. Fucking animals!"

Fredrick appeared in the upper corridor and skidded to a stop when he saw Eloise with Fenrir. The muggle was attacking him, and the werewolf was letting her. Shit. If Fenrir wanted her, there was nothing Fredrick could do.

Fredrick walked up to them.

"I see you caught my runaway, Fenrir," Fredrick said jovially as he made his claim on the muggle woman, who stopped attacking Fenrir and turned her brown eyes on Fredrick.

"This hellcat is yours?" Fenrir asked him.

The woman let out a shriek and started kicking at Fenrir again. He grinned at her then looked at Fredrick.

"Yes," Fredrick said.

Fenrir shook the woman suddenly, making her teeth rattle in her head. As soon as she recovered, Eloise tried to scratch Fenrir's face. She had to reach to do it…he was so big. The woman was about five foot five. Fenrir moved his head aside, then wrapped his arm around her throat, pulling her back against him. He made a big show of sniffing her as she cursed him terribly. He sniffed her hair, throat and face, then looked at Fredrick.

"She's not yours anymore," he growled at the wizard, "She's mine."

Wooten limped up, glaring at Eloise, his eyes wild. He didn't seem to see anyone else he was so enraged.

"I'm going to kill you, you bitch!" he snarled, drawing his wand

"Wooten!" Fredrick said warningly. But it was too late.

Fenrir quickly adjusted his hold on the muggle, wrapping one muscular arm around her waist and leaped toward Wooten, Eloise screaming as she flew with the werewolf. He had to have jumped at least fifteen feet from a standing position, landing in front of Wooten, and with a single backhanded swing, slammed the wizard into the stone wall of the corridor, cracking his head open in the process. Wooten slid down the wall, a small smear of blood left behind.

"Don't fuck with what's mine," Fenrir snarled at the unconscious wizard. Fredrick ran to Wooten and checked him. He was still breathing.

"Good for you! I hope you die!!" Eloise hissed at the downed wizard.

Fredrick looked up at her, frowning, but didn't say anything. Fenrir grinned at the muggle's viciousness.

"You're a fierce one," he said to her.

"I hope you die too, you fuck," Eloise hissed, hoping to make him just put her out of her misery.

By the way the wizards were talking as they struggled to bring her here, she was going to be raped by a lot of men…or wizards. She would rather just die and go into oblivion than have that happen. Eloise was thirty-one years old and had been raped once before in her early twenties. It had been horrible. It was just one man and she didn't fight. She was too afraid to try to escape the first time. They never caught her rapist.

Now, she wasn't afraid to fight. It wasn't going to happen to her again. She'd rather be killed.

"Damn, Fenrir. You didn't have to hit him so hard," Fredrick complained, standing up and taking off his robes and folding them into a pillow which he slid under Wooten's head.

"He was about to hex both of us, Fredrick. What was I supposed to do? Wait for him to do it? Besides, I claimed this muggle. He's lucky he isn't dead," Fenrir said.

Fredrick looked at Eloise, his eyes narrowed.

"You are going to bring her to the revel aren't you?" he asked the werewolf.

"I don't know. It depends," Fenrir replied. "Right now, she's for me."

Eloise began to struggle again, throwing her fists back and hitting Fenrir in the face. The werewolf tightened his hold on her, cutting off Eloise's air. Her flailing slowed then stopped, though her brown eyes were filled with hatred.

Fredrick's eyes flicked over the muggle woman. He wished they had never grabbed her. Now Wooten was hurt. The wizard groaned from the floor and shifted slightly.

"You better get him some help if you want him to live," Fenrir said, releasing his hold on Eloise and catching her by the wrist and dragging her down the hall after him.

Fredrick watched them go, his face twisted with anger. Then Wooten groaned again.

"I'll be back, Wooten," he said, hurrying to the revel to find Pumbleberry and get his friend some help.

"Let me go! Where are you taking me?" Eloise screamed at Fenrir, who ignored her yelling and yanked her along roughly behind him.

Suddenly he stopped, turned to the corridor wall and pressed several bricks. A door slid back and Fenrir slung Eloise inside the small torch lit room behind it, entering behind her, the door sliding back. In the room was a table, two chairs and a small bed. A small mirror hung on the wall.

"Sit down!" Fenrir snarled at her.

Eloise looked at the bed, then at Fenrir. He was a huge, rough-looking man with matted hair and strange yellow eyes. He was wearing robes but they were tight around him as if too small. He didn't look or sound normal. His voice was kind of raspy and growly. But if there was a bed…he probably intended on using it. Fuck that.

Eloise attacked Fenrir again, doing absolutely no damage to the werewolf, who kept smiling at her when she shrieked and leaped on him. He did avoid her nails however, and pushed her face several times so she staggered back a few times. Then she would collect herself and attack him again.

Fenrir let her rage until she practically wore herself out. Panting, she looked up at him.

"Kill me," she said, her voice full of despair. For the first time, her eyes filled with tears. "I'd rather die than be raped again."

"You think death better than rape? You might survive a rape," Fenrir said, knowing full well if the Death Eaters got her, she was as good as dead.

"I don't want to survive another one," Eloise said. She looked at the wall where the mirror rested. Then her eyes slid back to Fenrir. They looked a bit crazed.

"Mind if I check my face?" she asked the werewolf, who nodded.

"Go ahead," he growled.

Eloise walked over to the mirror and looked in it. Suddenly she grabbed it off the wall, smashed it and grabbed a shard, plunging it into her throat, blood gushing from the wound.

Normally, Fenrir's reflexes were fast enough to have stopped Eloise when she smashed the mirror, but he was so shocked, he froze for a moment…and a moment was all it took.

He stared at the dying woman, her blood pouring out on the floor.

"Crazy muggle," he breathed, walking over to her.

Eloise's eyes were glazing as she looked up at him.

"Death is better," she rasped.

Fenrir's yellow eyes rested on her for a moment.

"Maybe it is, muggle…but not for you. You have the heart of a warrior," he said, bending and grabbing her limp body, lifting her to eye level. It was clear Eloise was dying.

"I am in need of warriors," he growled at the muggle woman, "And a mate. A strong one."

Then he bit her.

* * *

**REVEL SCENE**

* * *

Draco had just descended the stairwell when he met Fenrir walking up the corridor, an unconscious muggle woman thrown over his shoulder. Draco could see congealed blood on her white t-shirt. Still, she didn't look dead. Her color was good. 

"Fenrir," he said by way of greeting.

"Draco," the werewolf growled in return, his yellow eyes resting on the young wizard before the werewolf took to the stairs, bounding up several steps at a time.

Draco watched him go. No doubt Fenrir planned to have a private revel of his own. Hopefully he would kill the muggle quickly afterwards. Draco began walking up the corridor. He could already hear the screams of women and laughter of Death Eaters indulging themselves.

Taking a deep breath, Draco walked through the large archway into the large room Pumbleberry provided for his guests. When Voldemort threw revels, the most the Death Eaters could count on were dirty mattresses. The Dark Lord enjoyed the acts more this way, they seemed even more despicable and horrid. But Pumbleberry went all out, providing food, drink, sofas and beds for the Death Eaters. Ropes, whips, restraining chairs and manacles were also provided for those who preferred them. The surroundings were kept immaculate, all blood and other bodily fluids carefully and thoroughly scourgified away after each act. Blood stains were left all over the Dark Lord's throne room when he reigned.

In the center of the room, there was an extremely large four-poster bed, the mattress twice the size of a king-sized one on a raised dais, around which chairs were set up for those who wanted to observe a raping or participate. This bed was used exclusively for gang rapes. A dozen wizard and witches could fit on it and usually did. House elves with their ears flattened in horror served appetizers. Scattered conversations could be heard, a low murmur under the shrieks and cries of the muggle women being brutalized in every orifice.

Pumbleberry really knew how to throw a revel.

Draco waded his way through the Death Eaters milling about. All beds and sofas were on one side of the room. Draco's face contorted slightly as he glanced at the tangled bodies and pumping buttocks that occupied the beds and sofas, thankful Pumbleberry utilized an air freshening spell, otherwise he would have gagged on the scent of sex and blood. He walked over to the libations table and poured himself a stiff firewhiskey, downing it in one shot.

He put the glass down and watched as a muggle woman was forced to crawl on her hands and knees over to the bed area as a trouserless Death Eater with a huge erection followed, kicking her in the ass and spitting on her.

"Crawl faster, bitch," he hissed, kicking her again as she sobbed.

Draco looked away. There was nothing he could do for her now. Later, most likely he would put the woman out of her misery.

Pumbleberry barreled up to Draco with a big smile on his face. He was a rotund, barrel-bellied wizard with a black waxed handlebar mustache and a comb-over. His blue eyes were rather rheumy, and he had a habit of hemming when he spoke. And when he spoke, it was usually about how wonderful a host he was.

"Urm…hello Draco. Lovely revel isn't it? Urm…I spared no expense…no expense," he said to the blonde wizard as he looked over at the bed area and the wildly copulating guests. "Nice turnout tonight. Urm…plenty of muggles to go around. I provided several myself. Urm."

Draco's eyes rested on Pumbleberry.

"Yes. You've gone all out," he replied.

"Urm…yes," Pumbleberry said, his eyes flicking toward the young wizard's loins. "Urm…how goes the quest for a cure? A shame a young lad like you can't participate. I would offer you one muggle exclusively…urm…but that would cause a terrible row with the others, who have to share."

"I have healers still working on it," Draco lied.

He didn't address the one muggle idea, though if Pumbleberry had given him one of the women, he would have taken her away from the revel and let her go.

"Well, I hope they find a cure soon, Draco…urm…it must be hell to watch everyone enjoying themselves," Pumbleberry said.

"It is," Draco answered, "Pure hell, believe me."

Pumbleberry shook his head sympathetically and patted Draco on the shoulder. A frightened muggle girl with red hair and freckles was brought into the room. She looked to be about thirteen. Pumbleberry's rheumy eyes lit up.

"Excuse me, Draco…I've just seen something more to my…urm…tastes," he said, barreling off toward the girl.

"Fucking pedophile," Draco cursed under his breath, watching as Pumbleberry pulled up the girl's shirt.

Her breasts were tiny and still developing and Pumbleberry caressed and squeezed them roughly, the young girl screaming in pain. He had the two deatheaters holding her drag her over to the bed area, unfastening his robes as he trundled after them. Draco turned away. He couldn't watch that.

Then he noticed a small table set up with parchment and quills. A number of Death Eaters were standing nearby, talking among themselves and looking at the table from time to time. Draco walked over and looked at the parchment. It was a sign-up sheet for the Dark Lord competition. Several names were on it.

"Change your mind about signing up, Draco?" a familiar voice said behind him.

Draco looked around to see Devon standing there, a wry expression on his face.

"No, not at all. As I said, I'll wait for the second round, when the stakes aren't so high," Draco lied. Like he wanted to be a scaly, bald-headed and malformed despot. Vanity ran in the Malfoy family and Draco intended to keep his good looks.

"How are your parents?" Devon asked him.

Draco frowned.

"They are being well-treated in Azkaban," Draco replied, "I pay good galleons to make sure of it."

Draco believed his parents truly belonged in Azkaban. Neither of them had been very good parents to him, Lucius having a terrible temper and being abusive, and his mother more concerned with pleasing his father than being a mother to him. She never once tried to protect him from Lucius' beatings. But they were still his parents…so he did what he could to insure they were as comfortable as possible. Paying off the guards each month insured good treatment, and his mother and father were allowed conjugal visits twice a month in a private area, though the guards watched them engage through a security mirror.

"Have to keep an eye on 'em," they'd say while unzipping up their trousers.

Narcissa was treated extra nicely, the guards all hoping that she might give one of them a shag one day. They were all Aurors however, and Aurors weren't rapists. All Death Eater women were treated relatively fairly, though there was still some residual anger from the guards, some of whom had fought in the Final Battle and lost comrades. But quite a few of the witches did give up a shag now and then in exchange for preferential treatment. They usually got it rough when they did, but that was to be expected. Because of Draco's monthly contributions, Narcissa didn't need to spread her legs for anyone other than her husband. She remained faithful to Lucius.

"When we reunite under the new Dark Lord, the first act we are contemplating is breaking our comrades out of Azkaban," Devon said to him. "And hide them. We are already designing an unplottable safe house."

Draco was about to reply when a screech attracted his attention. Bellatrix LeStrange came storming through the archway, her wand drawn.

"How dare you hold a competition for a new Dark Lord!" she shrieked, her gray eyes falling on the table with the parchment. The Death Eaters standing near it backed away as she approached it, her face twisted in a snarl.

Devon's eyes narrowed and he discreetly reached into his robes pocket, placing his hand on the end of his wand. On the other side of the room, the raping went on undisturbed.

Bellatrix stalked up to the table, grabbed the list and read it, then tore it into little pieces.

"That's what I think of your 'competition!'" she hissed, looking directly at Devon, "you have no right to do this, Devon!"

Devon pulled out his wand and calmly repaired the torn list, picking it up and placing it back on the table, leveling his eyes on Bella.

"And you have no right to tell me or any Death Eater here what we can and cannot do," he said to her evenly, "If you want that right, I suggest you sign up."

Bella was aware that several masked Death Eaters were standing around her now with their wands out. Devon had been expecting her, and enlisted the aid of several Death Eaters to help contain Bella should she start hexing. He promised them they could have at the witch if anything happened. So all of the wizards were hoping Bella would try something. Anything. Their faces were covered so the witch wouldn't be able to identify them.

"Oh, so you're all going to gang up on me?" she spat, giving Devon a withering look.

"We're not about to let you rampage and ruin the revel, Bella," Devon replied, his eyes hard. "And if you try it, you won't just be attending this revel, you will be part of it."

Bella's face contorted hatefully and again she looked at the wizards surrounding her. Yes, she could see the lust in their eyes. Bella was vicious, but she wasn't stupid. There was no way she could take all of them on, and she didn't want to be forcibly taken as a result. Of course, they wouldn't kill her, but Bella knew some of them had grudges from when she was Voldemort's consort. The Dark Lord often let her torture his Death Eaters because she enjoyed it so much. To date, none had taken revenge on her because they would have had to go it alone. But now she was outnumbered. She could count on being brutalized if she tried anything.

She wasn't in the mood for brutalization.

Bella put her wand in her pocket and glared at Devon. The surrounding Death Eaters looked very disappointed.

"You're welcome to stay, Bella, if you behave yourself. As I said, you can add your name to the list if you want to tell us what to do," Devon said to the witch, relaxing his hold on his wand. "Maybe you will become the next Dark Lady."

Bella badly wanted to spit in Devon's face, but that might be construed as an attack too.

"You're going to pay for this, Devon," she hissed.

"I'll be watching my back, believe me Bella," Devon replied, frowning at her.

"It won't come from behind, Devon. It's going to hit you right in the face," Bella spat. Then her eyes shifted to Draco and narrowed.

"Are you going to compete, Draco?" she asked him.

Draco shook his head.

"Now, you're a smart wizard who knows his place," she said to Draco, "Not like these fools. They will all be very, very sorry. Just wait."

Devon and the rest of the wizards walked away.

Suddenly, Bella caught Draco by the arm and pulled him aside. Her gray eyes glinting, she stared at Draco.

"Where is Severus? Usually you two attend revels together," Bella hissed at him.

"I think he is working on the elixir," Draco replied.

Bellatrix scowled blackly.

"Tell him I wish to meet with him," she said to the wizard.

"Yes!" Draco thought. Finally, a breakthrough.

"Where and when?" Draco asked her.

"Two days from now. Tell him I want to meet where the stones kiss. Just before sunset. He knows where," she replied. "Tell him it is important. Tell him it might mean life or death to him. He must be there."

"Where the stones kiss, before sunset two days from tonight," Draco repeated.

Bellatrix nodded.

"Yes. Be sure to tell him, Draco," she said with narrowed eyes. "Your assistance will be remembered when the true Dark Lord comes to power."

Draco nodded, and Bellatrix turned and exited the room. She had said what she had to say. The witch knew they wouldn't listen to her…but she made the effort. It wasn't a great one, but enough to warrant death for Devon when Voltaire came to power. She walked quickly down the corridor, up the long flight of stairs, stepped out into the night and disapparated back to her stronghold.

Draco lingered for about twenty minutes more, then left the revel. He had made a connection with Bellatrix…there was no reason to stay until the madness ended.

He had a message for Severus.

* * *

As Fenrir loped across Pumbleberry's grounds with Eloise bouncing on his shoulder, he realized he didn't know where the muggle lived. He wouldn't be able to find her at the proper time if he didn't find out. The werewolf stopped, trying to think what to do. Eloise would be out for a bit longer as her body restored itself. She lost a lot of blood. He would have to scourgify her before he returned her to the muggle world for the time being. It was almost a month before the full moon would rise again. 

After a moment's thought, Fenrir placed a disillusionment spell on himself and Eloise, followed by a silencing spell and apparated for London's West End.

The West End was a very popular area with tourists and had a wonderful theater life. But after dark, it wasn't so popular or safe. There were quite a few rough neighborhoods in the West End, not that Fenrir would care, but for Eloise…it was another story. Fenrir found a bench and set Eloise on it. After he was sure she wouldn't topple over, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. He removed the disillusionment spell from the woman, scourgified the congealed blood from her body, then focused carefully, trying to get the timing right for the next spell.

"Obliviate," Fenrir growled.

He was still disillusioned. He sat on the bench a little distance from Eloise and waited until she began to stir. He stood up and walked several feet away.

Eloise groaned and opened her eyes, blinking at her surroundings. She recognized where she was immediately.

"How the hell did I get to the West End?" she said to herself, rubbing her temples with both hands. Somewhat disoriented, she stood up and looked around to see if anyone was about. She saw no one.

"Shit. I better get to the tube," she said.

Eloise lived on the East End and had no idea how she got here. The last thing she remembered was counting down her drawer at the sweet shop. But Eloise knew one thing…she needed to get out of the area. She began walking, Fenrir following a distance behind.

Suddenly, a mini-cab pulled up beside Eloise, slowing and keeping pace with her. A rather grungy looking driver with bad teeth looked at the woman, smiling.

"Need a ride, love?" he asked her.

Eloise looked at the cab and frowned. It didn't have a "For Hire" sign. It was bogus. These cabs picked up tourists and charged frightful amounts of money to take them where they needed to go. And they weren't trustworthy either. A number of women were sexually molested by these kinds of drivers. At least one a week, the drivers deliberately targeting women who are obviously a little drunk, and/or who are on their own

"No thank you," Eloise replied coldly, speeding up.

"You're stupid for walking around these parts by yourself. Something might happen to you," the driver said with an ugly look. "Better you come with me."

Eloise scowled at the driver.

"I told you no. I'm taking the tube," she snapped at him.

"Suit yourself you silly twit," the driver snarled, pulling off.

"Arsehole," she hissed after him.

Fenrir smiled and continued to follow the muggle woman.

Eloise felt a bit strange, her body feeling uncharacteristically light. She wasn't tired at all…and she was always tired after a day of standing on her feet and serving fickle customers. The way she felt probably had something to do with her bout of amnesia. She was going to have to get checked out.

Eloise found a station, pulled out her Oystercard from her back pocket and swiped it over the yellow pad on top of the ticket barrier. The barrier opened and she walked through. Fenrir simple used an "alohamora" spell and followed, the barrier opening and a large shimmer drifting through, the barrier closing behind it. Eloise never noticed.

Several rather unsavory looking youths stood a ways down from Eloise, looking at her from time to time and talking among themselves. Eloise pretended not to notice them, but her whole body was tense.

Fenrir eyed the young men, and snarled slightly. They were discussing whether or not they should rob Eloise since no one was about.

Presently, one of them detached himself from the others and sauntered toward Eloise, his hands in his pockets. Eloise had her arms wrapped around her chest. It was cold and she was underdressed. It wouldn't have been so bad if she'd gone straight home…she wasn't out in the air that long. She never thought to end up in the West End.

Fenrir watched the youth approach Eloise. His hair was dirty blonde and spiked into twelve pointed peaks and he had a number of piercings in his face, through his brows, nose, ears and lower lip. He had hard green eyes, and walked with his head lowered, focused on Eloise. He was wearing a dark green jacket cotton jacket and jeans. The sleeves of the jacket had been ripped off, and lean, muscular arms protruded from the hole.

Eloise felt him coming and turned to face him.

"Hey love, gives us a quid now. I'm awfully hungry," the young man said, his lip curled.

"I don't have any money on me," Eloise said, eyeing him. His comrades began to amble over in a little pack.

"Shit," Eloise thought. She wouldn't be able to outrun them.

Fenrir stood stock still watching the muggle be stalked by the youths. He did nothing.

He knew he didn't need to.

"Come on now. You must have a few pounds on you," the young man said insistently.

"No, I don't," Eloise said as the rest of the young men surrounded her.

"She says she doesn't have any money," the first youth said as the others looked Eloise over.

"Wot's she got then that we'd want?" a short, black-haired young man asked, grinning lasciviously.

They all laughed rather nastily.

Eloise felt herself becoming very angry. How dare they surround her this way? She was minding her own business and told them so. They all looked surprised.

"Now, why do you want to talk to us like that, love?" the first youth said. Suddenly his hand shot out and grasped Eloise's wrist tightly, jerking Eloise's body into him.

The other boys all cheered and whistled.

"Let her have it Toaly! Give her the high hard one!" they shouted.

"No money…I'll take honey," the youth sneered at her, face to face with Eloise. As he gazed at her face, the youth suddenly paled.

Eloise's eyes reddened and her eyeballs became covered in black pulsing veins.

The woman grabbed the boy around the waist and crushed him to her, his bones cracking as he screamed in agony. His friends all tried to help him, attacking Eloise, but she was everywhere, punching, kicking and scratching with blinding speed, throwing the young men about like rag dolls. Finally, they all fled screaming she was some kind of bloody martial artist.

Eloise chased them a few feet, then stopped, her chest heaving, and she flung her hair back, a vicious smile on her face. She felt like letting out a howl of victory, but she didn't.

"That'll teach them," she hissed, turning as the train pulled up. The doors opened and she walked in, followed by a toothily grinning Fenrir.

He had enjoyed watching her put it to the terrified young muggles.

Eloise took a seat and stared out the window as the train pulled off. When she had been fighting for her life, she had smelled something sharp and sickly sweet amid the young men. She thought…she thought it smelled like Fear.

As to how she had beaten them, Eloise attributed it to adrenaline and her fear of being raped again. She would rather die than have a man use her body that way again. Her eyes grew clouded and she let out a little snarl that she didn't even notice. But Fenrir did.

Presently, Eloise got off the underground and exited the station, walking through a rather rough neighborhood. There were a few groups of boys hanging about the street corners, but none of them even spoke to Eloise as she strode through them unafraid. There was something that felt dangerous about the lone woman walking through the East End as if she owned it.

Fenrir followed.

One boy sniffed the air, his face contorting as the wizard silently passed by them. It was hard to see his shimmer in the shadows.

"What the fuck is that? It smells like…like wet dog," he commented, sniffing at a comrade who took a swing at him.

Well, it had started drizzling and Fenrir was wet now. He did smell distinctly animal when wet, though a more thorough and timely application of soap and water would have done wonders for him. But Fenrir loved the scent. Fuck everyone else.

He watched as Eloise pushed opened a door leading into a rather dilapidated building, and followed catching the door before it closed and easing in behind her. The woman walked up two flights of stairs, stepping over a drunken man who reeked of piss who was sleeping on the landing. She stopped in front of a door, took out a key from her front pocket and let herself in.

Fenrir walked up the stairs. Flat two B.

He'd be back for her.

* * *

Draco was pleased as he returned to his manor. Now that Bellatrix had come forward, he wouldn't have to spend time at the revels any longer…well, at least until Severus did his part. If he had to go back, he would…but Bella had come forward and that was the only reason he was attending the horrible celebrations of depravity, to find her and make some form of contact. He had accomplished that. Now, it was up to Severus to reel her in. 

Draco let himself into the manor, loosening the collar of his dress robes as he walked down the long corridor. A couple of house elves greeted him as he passed. He returned the greeting and headed for his study. He was ready for a couple of firewhiskeys. He needed them to dull his memories of the night's activities. To think his mother and father both engaged in the revels and enjoyed them. How could any sane person enjoy such a bloodfest then walk among civilized people as if everything were right with the world.

He shuddered as he thought about the young muggle girl Pumbleberry defiled. He was one of the worst of them. Draco had heard he raped children as young as ten years old, and not all females either. When the time came for Pumbleberry to be taken, Draco would like to have ten minutes alone with him. Just ten minutes, with no wands…no magic…just his bare hands. He would beat the fat pervert to death.

Draco removed his robes, took his wand out of them and folded them over the back of a chair, then poured himself a firewhiskey and walked over to the floo. He plopped into the armchair and pointed his wand at the fireplace.

"Incendio," he said softly.

A roaring fire blazed up in the hearth, warming him. He felt cold throughout, and it wasn't from the weather. He took a sip of his drink and tried to take his mind off the night. It wasn't so bad. He hadn't been steeped in it for weeks this time…it was only one night of horror. One of many nights.

The gods willing, it would all come to an end soon.

Draco focused on Malina. His beautiful, passionate, obstinate lover. He was tempted to go find her. It would be a comfort to have her beside him tonight, but he would rather wait until he talked to Severus and knew for certain he wouldn't be needed at any more revels soon. Most likely he would have to go back into the Death Eaters' presence to observe the dueling for Voldemort's throne, but that would be bearable. It would be Death Eaters killing Death Eaters in what he presumed would be a fair fight. Not helpless woman being brutalized to death, unable to defend themselves.

Again, he was back at the revels. It was always this way. Brooding over the deaths he was powerless to stop, wishing that he could cast a room-wide Killing curse that would only affect his sick, twisted comrades. Draco cursed the day he took the Mark, but he was a survivor. He didn't want to die. Taking the mark was the only way he could save himself. If Voldemort didn't kill him, he was sure Lucius would have, for the Malfoy honor.

Draco sipped his firewhiskey, thinking about what Devon said concerning Azkaban and helping the incarcerated Death Eaters escape. Draco knew what would happen if his father ever got out. He would come for him and try to kill him for what Lucius deemed his betrayal. But Draco knew he had made the right choice. That insanity sequestered in the secret bowels of manors and caves would be widespread if Voldemort had come into power. Everything good would have fallen…evil would have free reign, the worst criminals reaping the most benefit. And that evil would have spread beyond the wizarding world, into muggle society. True, muggles had their weapons, but magic was still stronger in Draco's estimation. It wouldn't be long until the entire world was one dark representation of hell.

Voldemort had been stopped and Draco Malfoy had no intentions of living in a world with yet another Dark Lord seeking control of it.

Yes, Draco wanted to live. He had a strong sense of self-preservation.

But he would give his life to keep the wizarding world free if he had to.

No, Draco Malfoy didn't have the soul of a Death Eater, but the soul of a dark, somewhat complicated hero.

* * *

Hermione awoke early the next morning, Severus apparently sound asleep beside her. She looked at the wizard and felt a naughtily little pulse inside as her eyes washed over his long pale body. He was sleeping on top of the sheet on his back, his flaccid member thrown over his thigh. It wouldn't be flaccid for long. Severus had to go to Hogwarts this morning and it was time for a wake-up, Potions Master style. Severus knew just what to do with his morning erection when he woke up in Hermione's bed. 

The witch shifted her body, knowing that was usually enough to wake the wizard. Sure enough, Severus opened his eyes. They were a bit bloodshot as they turned towards her, drinking in her nakedness.

"Good morning," she said to the wizard, who stretched his pale arms above his head luxuriously, his organ awakening as well, rolling over and swelling as it did every morning.

"Good morning," the Severus replied, his dark eyes resting on Hermione's body. She was naked and obviously ready for a bit of attention. Attention which would be sadly lacking this morning.

The witch's amber eyes fell on his erection appreciatively, and she moved a bit closer to her lover.

"I see 'little Severus' is awake," she said to him, heat in her gaze.

"Yes he is. But it's nothing a morning piss won't take care of," the wizard replied, rolling out of the bed and standing up, looking down on the naked witch. Hermione looked quite alluring.

"A morning piss?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly.

"Yes," he said shortly, eyeing her.

This was part of his plan.

Severus was usually always ready to relieve his morning hard-on in a very physical way. Morning was the only time he was content to take Hermione without pulling an orgasm from her. Hermione didn't mind it at all. She still felt a sense of connection with the Potions Master and didn't need to come to feel their connection. Severus' desire for her was enough.

But he wasn't evidencing much desire as he and his erection walked off to the bathroom. Hermione heard Severus take a long strong piss, then the loo flush. Afterwards, the shower came on. Hermione sat up in the bed on her elbows, looking toward the bathroom.

Taking a shower before getting his morning goodies? That wasn't like Severus at all.

After about five minutes, Severus reappeared, a towel wrapped around his waist. His black eyes drifted over Hermione for a moment, then he turned toward the wardrobe and removed a pair of black silk boxers and black socks from the lowest drawer, his drawer. Severus kept clothing at Hermione's house as most lovers who are committed do. He let the towel drop and Hermione was treated to seeing his tight, muscular ass before he stepped into his boxers and pulled them up. Then he bent and put on first one sock then the other. He had very good balance as he lifted each foot and slid them on.

Severis then walked over to the closet and removed a crisp white shirt and black trousers, aware of Hermione's eyes resting on him. No doubt she was wondering why he hadn't taken her for their usual morning tumble. She needn't have worried about that. She was going to get her tumble all right, but tonight.

Hermione watched as Severus put on his shirt, then his trousers, securing them with his belt with the Slytherin buckle. Then he retrieved his teaching robes and slipped them on, patiently fastening up all those buttons. Finally he put on his boots, sitting down on the edge of the bed and reaching under it, pulling them out and pulling them on. He stood up and gave Hermione one of his more blanch-worthy expressions. She blinked up at him.

"Am I sufficiently imposing?" he asked her.

"For your students, yes. I outgrew that glare years ago," Hermione responded, her voice dripping with disappointment at not being shagged.

Severus scowled at her slightly.

"Is there something wrong, Hermione?" he asked her, his voice also dripping…with silk. He was purposely using his "sex" voice on her.

Hermione frowned.

"No," she said in such a way it was obvious something was wrong.

"Good," the Potions Master said, leaning in.

Hermione closed her eyes and puckered her lips for his goodbye kiss. Severus hesitated, then pressed his lips squarely in the center of her forehead. Hermione's eyes flew open as he straightened.

"Goodbye witch, I will see you tonight," he said, disapparating with a crack of thunder.

Hermione glowered after him. Severus hadn't even noticed she was upset. He was so thick sometimes. Hermione felt a bit out of sorts that Severus didn't do anything with her this morning. They always had that intimate moment before starting out the day. It wasn't wild crazy sex…but usually a rather gentle and quick interlude, their bodies making love and not war. Severus said it was better than coffee.

Well, he didn't have his "coffee" this morning. Maybe his mind was on something else. Hermione sighed and slid out of bed, heading for the bathroom. She had to shower, grab something to eat and head out to school. She had a test today.

Though Severus had left her feeling rather testy already.

Severus was still smirking when he reappeared in his bedroom at Hogwarts. Hermione always expected a bit of a tender shag first thing in the morning. She was quite disappointed when he left her hanging. But it would make her easier to handle tonight. At first, Severus thought about cutting her off for a few days, but then again…he would be the one acting out of character if he did that. Besides, it would be punishing himself as well. He went through enough punishment. Denying himself access to Hermione was completely out of the question.

He intended to really put it to her tonight however. The witch was going to confess everything and still get the ride of her life. He let out a little groan as he went half-mast. Then he sighed and adjusted himself. Enough about Hermione…he had to check up on his assistant.

Severus walked out of his bedroom and into his study. He was about to exit his private rooms when the floo suddenly turned green.

"Severus? Severus are you in?" the Headmaster's voice called.

Severus turned around and quickly walked toward the floo.

"I'm here, Albus," Severus replied.

"Please come to my office immediately. We have news," Albus' voice said.

Severus stepped through the floo and almost knocked Albus over when he emerged. Albus had been standing in front of it and was caught by surprise. Severus caught his arm however.

"Was that immediate enough, Albus?" he asked the Headmaster, who straightened and beamed at him.

"Quite," he said, turning and walking toward his desk. He gestured toward one of two armchairs. "Please have a seat, Severus."

Severus approached and saw that Draco Malfoy occupied the other armchair. He arched an eyebrow at him and sat down.

"Hello Professor," Draco greeted him, "You missed the party last night."

Severus nodded.

"That's something I can live with," the Potions Master replied, taking in the haunted look in Draco's eyes. It wasn't as severe as usual. Perhaps since he had only been to one revel so far. It was when they had to travel from revel to revel night after night that the horror took its toll.

"Draco has a message for you, Severus. From Bellatrix LeStrange," Albus informed him, his blue eyes darkening.

Severus looked at Draco sharply.

"She surfaced?" he asked the younger wizard.

"Yep. With her claws out…though Devon and the others filed them down quickly. Then she asked me where you were, and I told her working on the elixir. She wants to meet with you tomorrow just before sunset, where the stones kiss," Draco said, his gray eyes resting on the Potions Master.

"Where the stones kiss," Severus said, nodding his head. "It figures she would want to meet me there."

"Why?" Draco asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

It was where she "convinced" me to introduce her to the Dark Lord," the wizard said. "No doubt she thinks it will give her a psychological advantage, since she has nothing to offer me in exchange for my cooperation."

Both Dumbledore and Draco smirked at the wizard. Severus blinked at both of them for a moment, then realized why they were smirking.

"I don't want nor will I accept what you are both thinking she will offer me," he said a bit snarkily. "If she attempts it I will come up with a counter offer."

"What will you do, Severus?" Albus asked him.

"I believe Bellatrix will ask me not to create the elixir for the competition. A request that I will turn down because I have already given my word I would. Bella knows I don't go back on my word. I will then lead her to believe I have made improvements in the brew, that will make the imbiber even more powerful than Voldemort should he survive," Severus said.

"She's going to want that," Draco said, his eyes glinting.

Severus nodded.

"Yes she will…and I will deliver it to her…providing she let me see the boy, examine him and administer the elixir myself. Of course, it will be the usual elixir, but although Bellatrix can brew…she is not a Potions Mistress. She won't be able to discern whether the brew is different or not. But I imagine it will be stronger than what she has been giving him. The elixir will be full strength. I believe she has been giving him diluted versions, building up his tolerance in an effort to keep it from instantly killing him. No doubt she plans to give him the elixir full strength now in an effort to complete his transformation and stop the competition. The only problem is…he may indeed come to full power," Severus said.

"You can poison him, Professor," Draco said darkly. "That would take care of the entire problem. He can't rise to power if he's dead."

Severus leveled his eyes on Draco.

"I've considered that…but if I kill the boy, then we'll have the competition to deal with. I believe it will be better if Bellatrix introduces the boy publicly. More than likely there will be a battle and in the ensuing mayhem, the Order can attack and secure the boy, Bellatrix and the rest of the Death Eaters," Severus said.

Albus' brow furrowed.

"But if the boy is at full power, Severus, he will be formidable," the Headmaster said.

"Formidable, yes," Severus said smoothly, "But he is not yet experienced. I have no doubt Bella has trained him up…but simulations are not the real item. I believe he will be no match for you, Albus. You will have to be the one to subdue or kill him."

Albus looked at the Potions Master and sighed. He knew all along it would come down to this. He was going to have to most likely kill a barely grown wizard. A young wizard who had the potential to destroy the fabric of the wizarding world as they knew it. Yes, he had to be dealt with.

Draco frowned slightly as he looked at Dumbledore. It seemed he was reluctant. He couldn't be. Too much was riding on him.

Severus studied Albus as well, but he knew the old wizard would do what was necessary despite his misgivings. Most likely he would try to subdue the child rather than kill him, but if he couldn't do it…the boy would have to die.

"We each must do what we have to do," Albus said in a resigned voice. "But Severus, you must be careful dealing with Bella. She can be quite volatile."

"I will be wearing a repelling spell, Headmaster. Once I tell her about the improved elixir, I will become quite valuable to her. I will be safe…for the time being," Severus said.

"I guess I won't be required to attend the revels for a while," Draco interjected.

Albus looked at him.

"For the time being, you will not, Draco. But, depending on what transpires between Severus and Bella, you may be called back into service. I will let you know," Albus said.

Draco looked at Severus but didn't say anything.

"Draco, I will do my best to give you some time off. Most likely you will not be required to attend the revels since we have contacted Bella…but you will have to observe the dueling when it starts, as will I. Still, it will not be as trying or affecting as the revels," Severus said. "We will have to do this until the child is introduced and taken."

Draco absorbed this. It was a small reprieve at least. He nodded.

"Very well, Professor," the blonde wizard said, then looked at Albus. "Do you need me for anything further, Headmaster?"

Albus gave him a smile.

"No Draco. You may go. You've done well," Albus replied.

"Thank you sir," Draco said, rising. He turned to Severus.

"Good luck with Bella, Professor. You may need it," he said, then strode to the door, opened it and exited Albus' office.

"Draco is weary of spying," Albus said, looking at the door thoughtfully.

"He is lucky. He's only been spying for a short time and the worst of it is witnessing revels. He's been spared the pain I've gone through," Severus replied, his eyes darkening.

Albus nodded.

"Yes. You've gone through much for the wizarding world, Severus. Hopefully your service will end soon and you can live a normal wizard's life," he said to the Potions Master.

Severus' mind shifted to Hermione. She was the center of all his future hopes.

"Hopefully," he said.

* * *

When Severus returned to Hermione's flat that evening, the witch was studying. She looked up at him. 

"Hello Severus," she said, putting down her book and stretching.

The witch was dressed in a light blue t-shirt and dark blue sweatpants. She was barefoot as well, her hair drawn back in a ponytail. Severus' eyes fell on her breasts as she flexed her body.

"Good evening, Hermione," he purred, walking up to her.

The wizard pulled Hermione against him and gave her a slow, searing kiss that made the witch feel as if he were pouring liquid fire over her body. When he broke the kiss, Hermione looked up at him. His eyes were hot and rather hard…and she shuddered a little. When Severus looked at her like that…he was in "do some damage" mode.

"It occurred to me that I left this morning without my usual 'wake up,'" the wizard purred at her. "Why didn't you say something? I know you enjoy our morning intimacies."

"I thought you were preoccupied by something," she responded softly.

"I was," he lied, "But I'm not now, witch. The only thing on my mind now is you."

"Really?" Hermione purred back at him.

"Yes. I have quite a package for you," the Potions Master growled, pressing his loins into her so she could feel his erection. "and am anxious to deliver it."

Hermione gave him a naughty smile and caught hold of the wizard's hand, leading him toward the bedroom.

"Deliveries can be dropped off back here," she said.

Severus quietly let her lead him to the bedroom…his eyes glittering as they rested on her ass.

He had quite a delivery indeed for the sneaky little witch.

* * *

_**A/N: Okay…I had to let Severus get Draco's message before he and Hermione got to the bottom of things. Heh, heh. Next chappie…the Confession. Thanks for reading.**_


	4. Part 4

**_WARNING: Rough, controlling sexual S/M hurt/comfort scenario ahead._**

* * *

**A Song for Severus Part 4**

Severus and Hermione entered her bedroom, Hermione releasing the wizard's hand as she turned to him, smiling.

Severus looked at her rather somberly, then pulled out his wand and warded the door so it couldn't be opened. Hermione frowned slightly as Severus placed his wand on the nightstand and began unbuttoning his robes.

"Why did you ward the door?" Hermione asked him as his pale hands slowly moved down the front of his clothing.

"I wanted to make sure you didn't leave before I am finished with you," he said to her matter-of-factly.

Hermione stared at Severus as he opened his robes and slid them down his arms, dropping it to the floor and revealing his white shirt and black trousers.

"Leave?" she repeated as Severus leveled his eyes on her as he worked on his cuffs.

"It occurred to me recently, Hermione that your change of heart concerning me was quite…sudden," the wizard said quietly.

Hermione went a little pale. He was suspicious of her. This wasn't good.

"It wasn't sudden, Severus. I…I…just had time to think," she lied, "To think about how I feel about you."

"Think, you say," Severus said in a low voice as he worked on his shirt buttons, more of his pale chest coming into view as he opened it. His voice was full of sarcasm. "So, can you tell me, Hermione…what it was that you 'thought' that made you change your mind about our relationship in a matter of hours?"

Hermione stared at him, thinking fast. Unfortunately whenever Hermione was thinking or lying, her amber eyes had a habit of shifting back and forth quickly. Severus knew this and observed those telltale orbs moving rapidly right to left and smirked to himself.

Think fast, witch.

"Severus, I can't tell you what so easily. It involves a number of things. I thought you were happy with my decision," Hermione said, trying to put him on the defensive.

Severus pulled off his shirt, also letting it fall to the floor.

"I am ecstatic about your decision, witch. It's just that I know you…and you don't normally change your mind about anything unless…you've acquired some new and compelling information to foster that change," he purred at her. "Did you?"

Hermione looked at Severus. Damn him.

"What new information could I possibly have gotten, Severus? Probably only Albus knows what you're up to…and I haven't seen him," she responded, answering his question with a question of her own.

Severus paused for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at her as he opened his belt buckle and pulled the long strap out of the loops of his black trousers.

"That still isn't an answer to my question, Hermione. You're dancing," he breathed at her, doubling the belt in his pale hand for a moment.

A dangerous look flashed across his face, then slowly…Severus let the belt drop to the floor. He had never beat Hermione with anything other than his tool…he wasn't about to start now, no matter how angry he was.

"It is bad form to answer a question with a question, Hermione. What are you trying to hide?" he asked her.

Hermione pulled her t-shirt over her head, her bra-encased breasts dropping into view. She quickly reached around and unfastened her bra, sliding it down her arms, her full globes and dark nipples bouncing into clear sight. She was hoping to distract the wizard by this display.

"I'm not hiding anything, Severus. Can't we talk about this later? Right now…I just want our bodies to speak to each other," she said in what she hoped was her most seductive voice.

"They're going to 'speak' all right," the wizard growled at her as he toed off his boots, "Though I'm not sure 'speaking' will adequately describe your body's reaction, witch. 'Shrieking' might be the better word."

Hermione felt a pulse below her navel as Severus targeted and hit her darker nature with both wand blasts. The Potions Master was an amazing lover, with the ability to be gentle and tender as well as dominating and demanding, depending on his mood when he took her. Hermione was a strong little witch and could handle his range of sexual prowess. Right now, she welcomed his thinly veiled promise of power. Yesterday, she had been very accommodating, but Severus didn't let loose on her, although he had been very good and very thorough.

Hermione wanted the wizard to take her good and hard to give her some sense of absolution for the sin of stealing into his mind while he was asleep and taking the information that she wanted. Information that was supposed to be kept secret. It was something she subconsciously felt she should be punished for.

Hermione might have Slytherin tendencies…but she was still a Gryffindor. As such she felt guilt that would have never occurred in a true Slytherin. Severus, on the other hand, had no qualms about having intruded on her mind. It was necessary to find out what he wanted to know and that was the difference between them. Severus had very little conscience when it came to getting what he wanted.

Severus saw the darkness in the witch's eyes. Hermione wanted him to be brutal…he could tell. She wanted it yesterday as well, but he was feeling very grateful to the witch for her acceptance of him and wasn't moved to turn her into a shuddering, spasming, twitching mound of flesh.

But he was now. Hermione would tell him everything before he was finished with her. He pulled his trousers down and stepped out of them, kicking them aside then straightening, his black silk boxers tented enormously.

Hermione's eyes drifted over Severus' lean, hard pale body. Small scars were etched across his chest and belly, a line of dark hair running from his navel down into his boxers, where it framed his massive organ in a halo of dark, slightly curling hair. His belly was tensed and Hermione could tell he was ready to just leap on her.

"Finish undressing," he said to her silkily, his eyes on her sweatpants. Then they flicked up to her hair. "Undo your hair as well. I want it loose."

Hermione pulled the hair tie out of her hair and shook it so it swung free. Next she undid the drawstring to her sweats, slid them down and stepped out of them. She then removed her white cotton knickers and straightened, meeting the Potions Master's eyes.

Severus bit his lip for a moment as he studied Hermione. He found Hermione's body perfect, though she complained her hips were too wide and her thighs too heavy. But Severus appreciated her thickness. Her ample curves gave him plenty to hold on to as he twisted her petite body about.

"Come here," Severus said imperiously, Hermione creaming herself at the look of lust on the wizard's pale face.

Severus for the most part maintained a rather sober if not dour look. Only when he was with her did his face reflect his true feelings. He could let his guard down.

Silently, Hermione walked up to the wizard, looking up at him, standing inches from his body. Severus kept his hands at his sides and pushed his hips forward slightly, the bulge in his boxers pressing into her belly. Hermione let out a little gasp.

"You know what to do, witch," he said to her softly, his eyes hot. Yes, Severus Snape was definitely in domination mode and Hermione Granger in the mood to submit.

Hermione reached up to his shoulders and slowly drew her hands down his chest and belly, the Potions Master's eyes hooding slightly as they hooked into the waistband of his boxers. Hermione began to kneel, drawing them down as Severus gently gathered her hair together with both hands then caught it in one pale fist.

On her knees now, Hermione was face to face with his erection.

"Pleasure me," Severus hissed, pulling her forward by the hair a bit roughly, thrusting his hips forward and pressing the leaking head of his thick organ against her lips. "Let me see if my tool can loosen those lips."

Hermione opened her mouth and engulfed the Potions Master's swollen head, the wizard throwing his head back with pleasure as her warmth closed over him, sucking gently before the witch began to bob slowly, sliding her mouth over as much of him as she could take in.

"Yesssss," Severus hissed, his eyes closed, "Mmmmm."

Hermione brought up both her hands and began to caress the rest of his length, grasping the shaft and sliding her hands back and forth, the Potions Master groaning and hissing, his hips beginning to pump, driving into her mouth a bit deeper. He jumped a bit as Hermione fondled his scrotum, rolling it between her fingers, then tickling the sensitive perineum behind.

"Oh, you wicked little witch," Severus groaned down at her, yanking her head forward and driving so deep, Hermione gagged, "You know what I like don't you? Look up at me!"

Hermione turned wet eyes up at Severus who bit his lip at the erotic sight of his shaft between her lips.

"I think you have a secret that you need to share with me, Hermione," he gasped at her. "You're going to tell it to me before we leave this room tonight."

Severus slid his hand under Hermione's chin and grasped it tightly, adjusting his hold on her hair so it was tighter as well…then he began to thrust into her mouth roughly, yanking Hermione back and forth over him, the witch gagging now and then as he did so, coating him in saliva. His member was shining as if oiled as he plunged it into Hermione's mouth over and over, tears starting to run down her cheeks.

Severus pulled her over him and held her there for several moments before he released her…Hermione gasping for breath, Severus staring down at her, then easing up, letting Hermione take over again. She began licking and kissing him from tip to stem, running her tongue over and under it and nipping at the sensitive skin with her teeth, the wizard purring with pleasure.

"Tell me you love giving me oral sex, Hermione Granger" he breathed down at the witch, his lower lip trembling slightly as she bathed his tool, "Tell me how much you like it."

Hermione felt herself throb and a trickle of wetness slip out of her. She loved when Severus was like this. She pulled back from him.

"I love it, Severus," she whispered up at him, "I love it."

Severus gave Hermione a nasty little smirk and forced himself back into her mouth.

"I know you do," he replied, "That's why you're going to continue."

Hermione blew the wizard for about ten minutes more, Severus alternating between roughly gagging her and letting her take control. Hermione's mouth and chin were soaking wet and the wizard's organ shining from her ministrations.

Severus felt himself coming close to the edge and suddenly yanked Hermione back from his glistening organ, shuddering slightly as he fought the urge to ejaculate. Hermione's eyes were half-lidded and she tried to dive back in, fully caught up in the act, wanting to feel the wizard come in her mouth. Severus held her back by the hair.

"Not this time witch. I don't want to have to wait to deliver my package," he said to her, drawing the witch to her feet and kissing Hermione deeply as he caressed her slowly, his hands sliding down her back, over the swell of her buttocks and down her thighs. Hermione's entire body felt enflamed beneath his palms, her skin hot and moist from perspiration. She moaned into his mouth as Severus caught her cheeks and ground her hard against his erection.

"You're going to feel every inch of me," he growled, "And while you're feeling me, you're going to tell me why you changed your mind…the truth."

Hermione dimly registered what Severus said, she was so lost in her desire for the wizard. She writhed against his hard lean body, wanting him closer, wanting him inside her.

"Severus…" she hissed, aching inside, "Do me."

Severus gave a little chuckle.

"You're such a slave to your desires, Hermione," he said, backing her toward the bed, the couple shuffling as he kept contact with her body.

Hermione felt the back of her legs hit the four-poster and she turned in his arms, intending on climbing into the bed. Severus let her turn then stopped her, pressing his lips against her ear

"Oh no, witch. You're going to bend over for me first," he said silkily, stepping back a bit and pressing on her lower back, making Hermione bend at the waist. She placed her hands on the mattress obediently and Severus moved back in, pressing his pelvis against her as so she could feel him. Hermione shuddered, a sure sign of readiness.

"You want this, witch. Well, I want something from you as well," the Potions Master breathed, pulling his hips back and grasping his shaft and running the head of it between her labia.

Hermione let out a cry as he rubbed her nub with it several times before grabbing her waist and ramming his full length into her wet, pulsing sleeve with a grunt, hitting the witch so hard she slipped and fell forward on the bed with a shriek.

Severus pulled Hermione back up on her hands again roughly, then leaned over her back, fully embedded inside her, once more pressing his lips against her ear.

"I want…the truth," he hissed, "Why did you change your mind, Hermione. What made you decide to stay with me?"

"I changed my mind because I love you, Severus," Hermione gasped, her arms tensing as the wizard slowly straightened. She could feel his angle change as he bent his knees.

"That isn't a sufficient answer, Hermione," Severus breathed, then he pulled back and slammed into Hermione, who shrieked and panted as the Potions Master pressed deep inside her.

"You have loved me for quite some time, but that didn't stop your complaints about my disappearances, witch. Your love was being tried and you were at the end of your broom. You were going to leave me, Hermione…something changed your mind. What was it?" Severus purred, adjusting his grip on her waist.

Hermione didn't answer him. Severus waited several moments.

"Fine," Severus snarled, straightening. "You want to be stubborn?"

Severus grasped Hermione's waist tightly and began to drive into the witch, grunting, the wizard's loins slapping loudly against Hermione's soft cheeks as he possessed her hard and fast, the witch crying out and straightening her arms so he didn't drive her face first into the bed.

"Yes! Yes! Severus," Hermione howled as the wizard rode her.

He stopped, Hermione's buttocks wriggling as she pressed back. Severus drew back further so only the thick head remained embedded in the witch.

"Severus!" Hermione whimpered as the wizard fell still.

"Yes?" he replied, smirking slightly.

He loved when Hermione begged him to take her.

"Keep going," she hissed at him, turning and looking over her shoulder at the wizard. Severus' black eyes met hers.

"You want a little more of this?" he asked, gently sliding his thickness into the witch, his face contorting a bit as her soft, wet orifice clutched at him. Hermione was using her inner muscles to tempt him, her hot sleeve tightening down on his shaft and clenching.

"Yes," she breathed, Severus catching hold of her hips to stop her from moving. Hermione continued clenching around him, and the wizard moaned.

"I can stand here and let you do this all day," the Potions Master said to her silkily, "I'm sure I'm getting more out of it than you are, Hermione. You want this…"

Severus slammed into her several times then stopped, Hermione quaking and gasping for breath.

"And do you know why you want…this?" the wizard asked her, slamming into her again, Hermione crying out as he plunged too deep, then began to collapse, her legs giving out. Severus hoisted her back up again.

"You want this…" Severus said, ramming into Hermione again and jerking her body roughly as she howled, "Because you've been a bad little witch and need me to give you absolution. You want to be punished. Tell me what you've done, witch…and I promise I will punish you thoroughly…"

He leaned over Hermione, pulling her hair aside and kissing her throat tenderly.

"…And then…I will forgive you," he breathed.

Severus continued to kiss Hermione's neck, running his hands up and down her sides gently, the witch's eyes closed, loving the feel of his mouth and hands on her body even as she felt her belly clench with fear as she realized Severus knew what she'd done. Tears began to fall from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice quavering.

"Sorry?" Severus asked her, his lips moving down her back now, "What are you sorry for, Hermione?"

She shuddered under his mouth as he moved back up to her neck, nuzzling it with his big nose then moving back near her ear.

"Tell me what you're sorry for," he said soothingly, using his voice as a balm for the witch.

"You already know," she said brokenly.

"Do I?" he asked her, straightening and withdrawing from her body. He pulled her up and turned her to face him. "Tell me what I'm supposed to know, Hermione."

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wet with tears.

"That I used Legilimency to find out where you were going," she whispered, "I waited until you were asleep, then entered your mind and pretended to be Albus so I could see your memories. I was going crazy, Severus. I didn't know what you were doing…who you were with. You could have even been with another witch…living a whole other life…"

Severus stared down at her, his eyes hardening slightly.

"You believe I would risk what I have with you for trim, Hermione?" he asked her, the softness of his voice belying the anger he felt that she could even think such a thing.

His life had been so empty, so lonely before he connected with her. Hermione was the world to the wizard and fulfilled all of his needs, physically, mentally and yes, emotionally as well. He had shagged plenty of witches in his time and it was a purely physical act…his only purpose to get pleasure and physical relief. Once he rolled off, he was done…and gone. There was no reason to linger. But with Hermione…

"You believe I would abuse the gift of your love that way?" Severus asked her, his voice still deceptively soft.

Hermione could feel the anger radiating off the wizard's body. Severus seemed angrier that she doubted him than because she intruded in his mind. He stared at her, waiting for an answer.

"It's not that I don't trust you Severus…but other wizards in perfectly fine relationships have been known to…" she began when Severus cut her off, shaking her roughly.

"I am not other wizards!" he roared at her, "Everything…everything I am doing, is not just for the wizarding world, Hermione! It is so I can be free…free to love you! That is my mission, my purpose…my reason for continuing! I want to be more than someone who sleeps here between revels and provides you stud service! I want to be more than an undercover lover! I want a life with you witch! That is all I've wanted since you first told me you loved me!"

Hermione's head snapped back and forth as the angry wizard vented his frustration. Suddenly, Severus seemed to realize what he was doing and clasped Hermione to him, holding her tightly, breathing hard, his eyes closed as he tried to contain his emotion. He buried his nose in her hair and held her against his body, his heart pounding. He hadn't meant for that to come out…it wasn't the right time, there was so much he still had to do. But he had said it. His words couldn't be taken back.

"Severus…Severus, I never knew that's how you felt," Hermione said, her face resting against his chest, tears starting to fall.

Severus sighed and said, "I didn't mean for you to find out this way, Hermione…but for you to even suggest another witch could fulfill me just made me…made me…"

The wizard stopped. He had already said enough. He pulled Hermione back, his eyes hard again.

"Well, now you know something else you shouldn't, witch," he said to Hermione, beginning to back her up towards the bed, "At least I told you this of my own volition. Unlike the other knowledge you've acquired."

Hermione once again felt the bed hit the back of her legs. She looked up at the wizard and said softly, "Does this mean you love me, Severus?"

The Potions Master blinked down at her. He had never in his life told any witch he loved her. He might have told one that she had good trim or gave one hell of a blow job…but that he loved her? No. Never.

Severus studied Hermione. She did have good trim and gave excellent head…but there was so much more to her. She was bright, aggravating, bossy, demanding and wasn't a bit afraid of him. She was a wonderful cook, kept her home meticulously and rather anally clean and was more than capable of taking care of herself. And when he was in need of comfort and affection, she knew it instinctively and provided it for him without him having to ask for it. Love her?

Of course he loved her. But it was still very hard to say.

Severus attempted to wrap his mouth about those three little words several times, but they just wouldn't come out. Hermione arched an eyebrow at him as his mouth worked.

Finally, Severus said in a gruff voice as he pushed Hermione by the shoulders, the witch toppling and landing on her back in the bed, "I believe it does."

Hermione smiled up at the wizard softly, her joy evident in her face. He hadn't actually said the words but acknowledged his feelings. Hermione found it was just as good.

Severus frowned down at her, making his look extra black.

Hermione's smile faded.

Severus slowly began to climb in the bed, looking for all the world like a big cat stalking prey. Hermione reflexively slid back as far as she could. She sat up, her legs curled to the side out of range. Or so she thought.

"However, there is the matter of you treading where you shouldn't have. You made yourself privy to very sensitive and dangerous information. Information that could cause panic and mayhem in our world. Despite how you felt, Hermione…you had no right to steal information from me. No right, witch," he breathed.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said.

Severus curled his lip at her rather unpleasantly.

"Sorry you were caught more than likely. Gryffindors should never attempt Slytherin acts. They don't have the heart for it. They are too 'good.' The word 'guilty' might as well have been stamped across your forehead," Severus hissed.

Hermione just blinked at him. He was right of course. Hermione had been practically consumed by guilt. Well, now he knew…and Hermione knew what that meant.

Suddenly Severus' long arm shot out and he grabbed Hermione by the ankle, dragging her over to him and pinning her to the bed with his body.

"What happens to the 'guilty' Hermione?" he asked her silkily, his hair a curtain around his face.

"They're punished," she whispered up at him.

He nodded, then asked, "And are you 'guilty' Hermione?"

Hermione swallowed.

"Yes," she squeaked.

"Yes, you are," Severus agreed, his dark eyes beginning to smolder, "So logically you deserve…what?"

"To be punished," Hermione said softly, her own eyes glazing as her desire for Severus reasserted itself.

Severus bit his lip as he looked down on the witch, then he caressed her face gently.

"And punished you will be. Wait here," he said, suddenly rolling out of the bed and walking into the bathroom.

Hermione heard her medicinal cabinet open then the clinking of bottles. Severus walked back out of the bathroom with several bottles of purple pain potion. He deposited them on the nightstand then climbed back into the bed. Hermione counted the bottles.

There were five of them.

"Five bottles?" she said to Severus incredulously.

"Your punishment should not extend beyond the actual 'punishing,'" Severus said, getting into the bed and lying down on his back, "on a scale of one to five purple potions, your violation of my person definitely rates a five."

"I can't believe you," Hermione muttered under her breath.

Severus looked at her for a moment, then suddenly lunged forward, turning the witch over and twisting her arm behind her back while slipping his own arm around her throat and pulling her back against him. He caught hold of her upper arm, his fingers tight around her skin.

Hermione shrieked as the wizard grabbed her, creaming herself as he pressed his loins against her, rubbing his rigid member against her buttocks hard. Severus held Hermione securely, but not tight enough to hurt her, just tight enough to show the witch he meant business.

"Believe me," he breathed. "You're going to need every one of those bottles, Hermione Granger."

Severus released Hermione's arm and began to fondle her breasts while keeping his other arm wrapped around her throat and rubbing his erection against her. Hermione couldn't help but moan as Severus' pale hand caressed and tweaked her breasts. Then his hand smoothed over her belly, his long, sure fingers combing through her pubic hair.

"Open your legs," the Potions Master breathed, tightening his hold on her throat for a moment.

Hermione lifted one of her legs and Severus began to pet her gently, Hermione's pelvis beginning to roll as he stroked her.

"You really believe I would prefer another witch over your, Hermione?" he asked her softly, sliding two fingers between her labia, causing the witch to hitch and gasp as he rubbed her button. "You are exquisite. Soft, tight…always wet for me. And I know this body is only for me. Isn't it only for me, witch?"

"Yessssss," Hermione hissed as Severus began to work his fingers faster.

"And I treat it right, don't I?" he asked her, catching her peak between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it gently.

"Gahhh…yes…yes, Severus!" Hermione gasped as he let her tender flesh snap back and began rubbing her softness again, his fingers coated with wetness.

"You want me to pound it, don't you Hermione…to beat it into submission…to ride you into conniptions…don't you?" Tell me," he crooned, sliding between her cheeks sensually.

"Yes, Severus," Hermione groaned, her hips whirling now under his touch, desire rippling up and down her body in great waves. "Yes to everything. Everything."

"You're a bad witch, aren't you?" the wizard asked her, working himself up to a slow burn as Hermione told him what he wanted to hear.

"A very bad witch, Severus. So bad," Hermione replied, rocking against him now, her juices flowing. Severus stopped fingering the witch and brought his near dripping fingers to his mouth, tasting her.

"A very wet witch, too," he purred, sucking his fingers one after the other.

The wizard released his arm hold on Hermione's throat and roughly turned the witch to her back, climbing on top of her then in one smooth motion, sliding his body down the bed so his head was between her thighs. Severus put Hermione's legs over his shoulders, wrapped his arms around her thighs and dove into her core with gusto, giving her long, hard licks that made Hermione squeal and wriggle about frantically.

"Severus!" she screamed as the wizard put it to her, shoving his long tongue deep inside her and twisting it about, flicking the tip of it against her soft inner skin.

"Arrrrrrgh!" Hermione cried out, reaching down and pulling the wizard's hair. This only made Severus stop long enough to use his teeth, and Hermione let out a "whoop!" as he nibbled on her unmercifully.

The witch buckled as Severus licked, sucked, nibbled and lightly bit her, his face soaked by her juices as her body responded. The wizard stopped to lick her inner thighs before diving back in, using his nose this time, working his head back and forth, up and down, Hermione squealing like a niffler. She was perspiring now, her body covered in a light sheen of moisture as she strained to get away from the wizard. Severus was driving her crazy. She loved oral sex, but the Potions Master was normally not this ardent. He was trying to make her explode.

"Severus…please!" Hermione cried out, but the wizard acted as if he didn't hear her and returned to his torment of her core, running his lips over her most sensitive parts.

Hermione felt her body coil inwardly like a tightening spring, a great pressure building beneath her navel. Severus felt her getting ready to pitch over and pulled away, looking up at the witch who screamed at him.

"What are you doing? Get back down there!" Hermione shrieked.

Severus gave a nasty little laugh and slid off her, pulling himself back up the bed and turning on his side to observe her writhing body as Hermione fired off a stream of muggle curses at him, reaching between her own legs to give herself release.

Severus frowned and caught her hand.

"Oh no you don't witch. Squirm," he breathed at her, his dark eyes glinting vengefully.

"You…you son-of-a-bitch!" Hermione cursed at him, trying to get her hand free. Severus grabbed the other one and let her struggle, smirking.

Like Fenrir, he appreciated a woman who fought back. Hermione had a pretty horrible temper…letting her anger build and build until she finally blew up. Severus liked to pick at her sometimes, telling her things like "This steak is tough as dragon hide" and asking if her biscuits were made from a rock cake recipe, or if she had ever heard of salt.

On these occasions, Hermione often threw things at him, the wizard ducking and running for cover, Hermione chasing him through the house. She had pretty good aim too. Of course, whenever she managed to connect with a vase, plate, coffee cup or whatever else was handy…Severus always got her back. And these little bouts of violence usually ended in the bedroom.

After about five minutes of struggle, Hermione exhausted herself and fell back, her breasts rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Severus smirked down at her, still holding on to her wrists.

"Tired?" he asked her.

Hermione simply scowled at him, not answering.

Severus arched an eyebrow at the non-communicative witch and said, "I see that verbal communication isn't working on you, so…"

Suddenly Severus dropped on her, fitting his body between her thighs, still holding on to her wrists.

"I think non-verbal communication is in order," he purred, releasing on of her wrists and positioning his swollen member at her entrance. He then grasped her wrist again and thrust forward, entering her hard.

Hermione gasped and tried to arch up but Severus was on her dead weight.

"Just a gasp? That will never do, Hermione," he breathed down at her, pulling back and plunging into her deeper, using his toes to force his body upward. He slammed into her cervix and this time, Hermione let out a cry, the wizard staring down at her.

"Much better," he purred.

Gods, Hermione felt good. But then again, she always did.

Severus began to take Hermione brutally, his body jerking hers as he continued to push off his toes as he penetrated her, his thickness driving through her flesh powerfully, Hermione crying out from pain/pleasure as he claimed her.

"Yes, sing for me witch," the wizard panted, "You have such a pretty voice, Hermione…it goes straight to my loins, but tonight…it's not nearly loud enough for my taste…"

Severus stopped his assault on Hermione long enough to force his arms under her legs and draw them up…this was one of his favorite domination positions. The witch was pinned with her thighs cocked wide and when Severus rose up on his hands, he could watch his penetration, her jerking body and her contorting face as he took her. Plus he could delve deep inside Hermione, feeling as if he were going to burst out of the small of her back.

Hermione gasped helplessly as Severus changed his position, her eyes wet, her body turning in on itself. Damn, he was so strong. The wizard raised himself up on his hands, his eyes predatory as he looked down on her, hesitating for effect.

"Now SING!" he roared, plunging down into Hermione, the little witch shrieking as he hit bottom over and over, driving down into her softness, his mouth slack with pleasure and eyes narrowed. Hermione's body was springing up into his stroke, he drove her so deep into the mattress.

"You will never enter my mind again uninvited Hermione," the wizard snarled, "You will never steal information in this manner again. You understand me witch?"

"YES! YES!" Hermione cried back at him, her voice stuttered because of the force of her body being bounced like a rubber ball.

Perspiration poured off the Potions Master as he threw himself into shagging Hermione into conniptions, his sweat dripping down on her body as his pelvis slapped loudly between her thighs rapidly, his face in a grimace of lust as he possessed her.

Suddenly he pulled out of her and slid to the side.

"Get on your hands and knees, witch," he commanded.

Dazed from the wizard's ardor, Hermione slowly rolled to her stomach.

"Faster!" Severus hissed, moving behind her.

Hermione rose to her hands and knees, then shrieked as Severus hit her hard with all ten inches, then stopped. Carefully he placed his feet on the bed, his bent legs on either side of the witch's body and leaned forward on his hands so he was crouched over her. Then he drove into her again, crunching his body to get the most power…Hermione once again shrieking as he pistoned into her.

"Yes…yes…yes…" Severus groaned as he whirled his pelvis, winding inside her like a corkscrew, Hermione gasping as he stretched her with his rotating girth.

Then the wizard snaked his arms under hers and locked his hands over the back of her neck in a loose full-nelson. Clasping her tightly, he began stroking her again, the witch totally in his power as she cried out, the wizard plunging inside her as deep as he could go. The friction of his huge organ was starting to burn Hermione as he tore into her heat.

"You feel me, witch?" he gasped at her and in answer, Hermione came, her release pouring over the wizard's iron-hard organ in one boiling gush. Severus hissed as her body clenched and pulsated around him, but he didn't let up…her juices squelching loudly as he continued possessing her through her climax.

Hermione's shrieks had become whimpers now, and still Severus rode her hard, determined that the witch wouldn't be able to move when he was done with her. Yes, he was being harsh, but the act she committed warranted it. Besides, when he was done with her…the guilt she felt would be absolved. As cerebral as Hermione was, a part of her was definitely keyed to the physical when it came to Severus…and as hard as her lover was being on her…she needed this. She needed to feel his anger…take it into herself and swallow it down. Hermione needed to feel a part of him even in this. She needed to feel she had given everything she could to deserve his forgiveness. Only then could she release the guilt inside her.

Severus' body was beginning to protest now, his muscles aching as he remained curled around the witch. He fell to the side with her, continuing his assault from a more comfortable position, his arms still locked around her neck as he strained into her, seeking one more release before he let go.

Hermione's inner thighs were bruised and her buttocks red and aching as Severus continued to slap against her, spanking her buttocks with his body as he drew into the stretch. Even her whimpers had died to gasps now as he drove so deep she felt the wizard was actually in her belly. And she burned. Her next climax felt as if boiling lava had burst from within her, scorching as it flowed.

Severus groaned and began to slow now, his strokes becoming less brutal as he kissed her neck and shoulders. Hermione knew this meant that he was sated as far as punishing her went and was working on his own release.

"It's almost over now," he whispered to her as his strokes eased into gentleness, the wizard slipping his arms from around her throat and sliding down to embrace her body. He held her close as he felt the delicious pressure build inside him heralding impending release and listened to Hermione gasping softly as he eased in and out of her body.

As the Potions Master approached climax, he sped up, but didn't drive into the witch roughly. The time for roughness was over. Severus came, grunting softly and pulling Hermione back against him, gently burying himself deep inside her and holding, reveling in her inner embrace. When he finished pulsing, the wizard sighed with satisfaction. His black hair was plastered to his head as if he had plunged it under a shower, and his muscles ached. Hermione's bedroom was filled with the scent of sex and perspiration.

Punishment was a hard business.

Hermione lay in the wizard's arms, shuddering slightly. She was quiet. She usually was after bouts of sex this powerful. Severus rested his cheek against hers and closed his eyes. He felt vindicated. Hermione drew in a deep breath, and he tightened his arms around her.

"Have you survived me witch, or was that your dying breath?" he asked her softly.

Hermione's body ached inside and out.

"I survived…but I hurt, Severus," she whispered back.

"Punishment is supposed to hurt," he responded, kissing her temple. "But forgiveness, and five bottles of purple potion is a balm, witch."

Severus released Hermione and rolled her on to her back, the witch hissing at the sudden movement. Severus' black eyes swept down her body. Hermione lay with her legs slightly parted and he could see the bruising on her thighs from his slapping against them. His own loins were quite red as well, but he could take the pain. It was nothing like Hermione's ache.

"You have to sit up," he said to Hermione and helped her, the witch grimacing and letting out a little cry as she adjusted. Severus picked up a bottle of pain potion off the night stand and presented it to her. Hermione looked up at him.

Severus didn't look particularly sympathetic, but he wasn't gloating either. He just looked at her soberly. No, he wouldn't feel any remorse. He was a Slytherin, and Slytherins believed that if you were stupid enough to be caught in the wrong, then you deserved the punishment you received. The most important aspect of committing a wrong act for your own benefit was to get away with it. Hermione failed to do that. As far as Severus was concerned, she was very aware that she'd be punished for it if it were found out. And it was. And she was. End of story.

But one good thing about the Potions Master was that once someone was punished…nothing more was ever said about the incident itself. There might be other repercussions and details to take care of, but the matter itself was closed. He never used it against the person, be it student or associate. He wouldn't take Hermione to task about her intrusion of his mind again.

He passed her the rest of the potions, taking each empty bottle back from her and setting them back on the nightstand. He looked down and saw the bruising between her thighs fading.

Finishing the last bottle, Hermione let out a sigh of relief and looked at Severus.

"I'm so sorry, Severus," she began, but he shushed her.

"You've shown me that, Hermione. We don't need to speak of it again," he said softly, "but there is another matter. Now that you know what you do…you must join the Order."

"Join the Order? But I wanted to finish my studies first, Severus," she said to the wizard, who shook his head.

"I'm afraid the knowledge you have about Bellatrix LeStrange and Voldemort's son makes it imperative, Hermione. Those in the Order take an oath of secrecy to keep all knowledge within the ranks until such time as it can be revealed to the public," Severus said.

"Why can't I just take an oath for you not to reveal what I know, Severus?" Hermione asked.

"Because more than likely Albus will want to talk to you. If you are under an oath to me, you won't be able to do that," he said.

"Then I could take an oath to only talk to you and Albus, Severus. I really don't want to join the Order yet," she said.

Again, the wizard shook his head.

"Another Order member may need to speak with you as well, Hermione. Communication is important. You can't cut yourself off that way…besides…you may be helpful. Your brilliant mind needs to be accessible to the Order as a whole. I'm afraid when you looked into my mind, you indoctrinated yourself into the ranks. There is nothing else for it," Severus said.

Hermione pouted. She hadn't thought about the repercussions beyond Severus' anger. Both Harry and Ron had joined the Order immediately after graduation, but she held off…wanting to devote herself to further study first. The Order had mandatory meetings twice a month, and members were required to perform services on a rotating schedule. It could be anything from guard duty to spying. Hermione felt that since Voldemort was dead and there were no pressing matters endangering the wizarding world, she could focus on her own goals without seeming selfish. But now she knew there was a danger. A very great danger.

Hermione let out a sigh.

"Very well, Severus," she said, shifting down in the bed and resting her head on the pillow. "I'll join."

Severus nodded, then picked up his wand off the nightstand and scourgified her, the bed and himself, then put it back. He too lay down and turned toward Hermione, his black eyes searching her face as she looked at him.

"Being brilliant has its price, doesn't it witch?" he asked her.

"Yes…yes it does," she replied.

Severus slid an arm under Hermione's shoulders and pulled the witch against him, kissing her lips softly then letting his head fall back to the pillow. He was exhausted and closed his eyes.

"You'll find in this life," he said to Hermione sleepily, "Everything has its price."

* * *

The next morning a very miffed Hermione and determined Severus apparated to Hogwarts. Hermione was in a foul mood because she had an early class that morning and most likely was going to miss it, thus ruining her perfect attendance record. 

Severus was completely unsympathetic. He needed to get her into the Order as soon as possible, so he could inform her about his meeting with Bellatrix this evening. It was going to be a relief to be able to tell her what he was doing…though he was sure Hermione was going to be less than enthusiastic about his going to meet the dangerous witch. Bella was capable of anything.

As soon as they apparated into his private quarters, Severus walked to the floo and tossed in some floo powder from a box on the mantle. When the flames turned green he said, "Headmaster's office," then called for Albus.

There was no answer. Most likely he was in the Great Hall having breakfast. Severus didn't want to bring Hermione out publicly, so sent her through the floo to Dumbledore's office, then exited his rooms and headed for the Great Hall.

He entered with a billow of robes, the chattering voices of students dropping down several levels as he strode up the aisle. Calls of "Good Morning, Professor," rang out from the Slytherin table. Severus threw up his hand at his charges and marched up the dais. His assistant Bartholomew was sitting in his seat. Severus gave him a passing glower and walked over to the Headmaster. He leaned down and whispered in his ear.

Albus' bushy eyebrows rose and he nodded, the other staff members looking at the pair curiously. The Headmaster took one last bite of his raisin muffin, then rose, following Severus out of the Great Hall.

"So she finally found out what you were about, Severus?" Albus asked him as they walked to the floo in the Main Hall.

"Yes, she did," Severus said, scowling a bit at having to admit Hermione out-Slytherined him.

Albus said an incantation that temporarily removed the ward that blocked access to his office, then cast in a bit of floo powder. Both wizards stepped through.

Hermione was petting Albus' familiar Fawkes when there was a "foomph" from the fireplace. She watched as Severus and Albus walked through, brushing off their robes. Albus smiled at the witch.

"Ah, Hermione. It is so good to see you. Things going well at University?" he asked.

Hermione frowned at Severus, who looked at her soberly.

"They were, until Severus ruined my perfect attendance record," she said stiffly, walking over to one of the armchairs in front of Albus' desk and plopping down in it.

"You ruined your own record," Severus said, taking the seat next to hers and looking at Hermione pointedly.

Albus walked around his desk and sat down in his swivel chair. He looked up at the portraits, which were all looking at them with great interest.

"Out," he said to them.

Looking disappointed, all the occupants of the paintings moved out of the frames. Hermione wondered where they all went. They probably crowded out the paintings in the Main Hall.

Albus focused his blue eyes on Hermione.

"I understand you wish to join the Order," he said to Hermione with a smile, "I've been waiting for you for some time, Hermione. You will be very useful to us."

"It's more like I have to join the Order, Headmaster," she said, giving Severus a black look. The wizard continued to look sober.

"Yes, yes. Something to do with acquiring secret information I understand," the Headmaster said, a bit of the twinkle leaving his eyes, "Of course…if you don't want to join us, Hermione…you could be obliviated."

Hermione looked at the Headmaster, then Severus, who arched an eyebrow at her. Hermione thought about this. If she were obliviated, she would be back where she was before concerning Severus' disappearances, not to mention having no recollection of what transpired between them afterwards. No, she didn't want her memories altered.

Besides, there was no guarantee that she wouldn't attempt to invade Severus' mind again. But this time, he would most likely discover it, knowing she had done it once before.

"No…I don't want that, Headmaster," Hermione said, "I'll join the Order."

"Good," Albus said, rising and holding out his arm.

Fawkes flew from his perch and landed on the wizard's arm. Hermione thought the Headmaster must be much stronger than he appeared to be. Fawkes was a large bird, a Phoenix, a magical creature that was reborn from its own ashes. Albus walked around his desk and stood before Hermione.

"Stand up please," he said to the witch.

Hermione rose.

"Fawkes has the uncanny ability to define the purposes of the heart. If your heart isn't true concerning the fight against evil, then he will know and reject you," Albus said somberly.

Hermione's mind immediately flew to Albus' acceptance of Severus as a spy years ago and his belief in him when others question his loyalty. She realized that most likely Fawkes had accepted the dark wizard and was the basis of the Headmaster's confidence in the Potions Master. Another mystery solved.

Severus looked at the Phoenix.

"Fawkes?" he said to the bird.

Fawkes studied Hermione closely, his golden eyes whirling in his head. Then he ruffled his feathers, puffing them up and looked back at Albus, nodding his feathered head.

"Very good," Albus said, beaming, "Fawkes judges you to be suitable Order material."

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Fawkes didn't accept her. Probably obliviation. Obviously, reluctance to join wasn't a factor in the bird's decision. It was the character that mattered. And Hermione truly was against evil.

"Hermione Granger…you have chosen to offer your skills and your life to protect the sanctity of our society. This will require you to be of service and it is possible that service could end in the Ultimate Sacrifice. You are accepting the position of a Protector of all things good in our world, becoming the sworn Enemy of any evil that threatens our way of life. You will protect and serve all members of our society without prejudice, regardless of background or origin. You will also keep our secrets and divulge them to no one until such time as they can be released to others outside of the Order…"

At this point, Albus pointed a long thin finger at Hermione and twirled it. An odd feeling washed over her as Fawkes began to sing softly.

Albus smiled at her.

"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Hermione Granger," he said. "Our next meeting will be Friday after next, eight o'clock at 12 Grimauld Place. You will receive your orientation at that time."

Fawkes flew back to his perch and Albus took his seat again, and looked at Severus.

"I am sure Hermione does not know the entire story behind the Dark Lord's child and the current plans of the Death Eaters. I suggest you tell her, Severus," the wizard said.

Severus looked at Hermione, then did as the wizard asked. Hermione listened carefully and was absolutely horrified at the idea of creating another Dark Lord. Were they all insane?

Then she listened as Severus told her about the child Bellatrix was raising to become the next Voldemort.

"Who is his mother?" Hermione questioned Severus after he finished.

"We don't know. Probably some poor unfortunate Bella killed. I doubt she would have left the mother alive to influence the child," Severus replied.

Hermione looked thoughtful.

"So this boy has been raised by Bella to be a despot," she said slowly.

"Yes," Albus replied, his eyes dark.

"What are you going to do when you capture him?" she asked.

Albus looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"We will probably have to put him away for the rest of his life, Hermione. Most likely he will have to be bound by powerful spells to render him helpless," the Headmaster replied.

"I think it best we kill him," Severus said darkly, "It would be safer."

Hermione looked at the Potions Master with wide eyes.

"Kill him? It's not his fault that Bella did this to him!" Hermione said.

Severus sighed. Oh no, here it was. Bleeding Heart Hermione.

"Be that as it may, he is too dangerous to live," Severus said, "As long as he is alive, there is a chance he could escape. Then where would we be?"

Hermione scowled at Severus. He was so cold and hard. It was as if he were talking about putting a rabid animal down. This wasn't an animal, but a human being, a young wizard being manipulated into becoming something other than who he was.

"It doesn't seem fair. Bella's been poisoning his mind and his body. He doesn't know anything other than her. If he were exposed to love, kindness…" Hermione began.

Severus rolled his eyes.

"I doubt if he is even capable of appreciating such things, Hermione. The boy has been immersed in darkness all his life," the wizard said.

"It worked for you," Hermione said softly.

Severus stared at her.

Albus fought back a chuckle.

"I am not the Dark Lord's offspring, Hermione," he snapped at her, angry that she said such a thing, especially in front of Albus. "Nor have I changed that much toward anyone other than you."

Albus cleared his throat to stop what was obviously becoming a lovers' spat.

"All right, Hermione…what would you propose as far as the handling of the boy goes?" he asked the witch.

Hermione fell silent for several minutes, thinking hard. The basic problem was the boy's power. If they could find a way to reduce it, then he could be handled in a more humane manner.

"We need to take away his power…make him as normal as possible," she said, then she brightened, "We need to reverse the effects of the elixir!"

"What?" Severus said, looking at Hermione as if she were insane, "Reverse the elixir?"

"Yes!" she said enthusiastically, "What is the main ingredient in the potion, Severus?"

"King Cobra venom. When mixed with other ingredients and incantations, it takes on properties that strengthens the body and increases magical abilities…at a terrible physical price," he said.

Severus didn't like to think about all the people who died when he was creating the elixir. He tested it on wizards and muggles alike. He was different then, young, ambitious and hungry for the power Tom Riddle promised him. He was given his own lab, endless resources and human test subjects he thought of as nothing more than lab rats and nifflers.

Hermione thought about this. If venom was the ingredient that increased power…

"Maybe we can use anti-venom to create another elixir to counteract the original," she breathed, getting excited.

Severus recognized that look.

"Hermione, you have no idea what was sacrificed to make that damnable elixir," he said in a harsh voice, "you…you can't test it the way I did."

Severus didn't want to actually say he used humans to develop the elixir. There were parts of his past he didn't want to reveal, though Albus knew all. But Hermione figured it out immediately…using human beings was the only possible way it could have been done. But there could be substitutions. She wouldn't have a Tom Riddle breathing down her neck for results. Using human subjects probably sped up the process, but there were inherently magical creatures that could be substituted for the experiments. She could give them the original elixir and use the ones that survived…

"It can be done, Severus," Hermione said firmly, "We don't have to use humans…we can use magical creatures whose increase in power can be observed. Once we have them at the equivalent level of power a wizard would acquire, we can work on reversing it!"

Severus shook his head as Albus' eyes lit up. If Hermione could do this, he wouldn't have to kill the boy.

"Hermione, you don't yet have the level of skill for this," he said to the witch.

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"If Bella can brew the elixir, Severus, I know I can," she said, "And…if I run into problems…I have you. You are a very gifted Potions Master."

Severus looked at Albus and immediately saw he was buying into this insanity.

"What about your studies? University?" he asked her, trying to get her mind turned back on her selfish desire to excel.

Hermione's eyes darkened.

"Severus, we're talking about saving a life here, a life that had no choice in what it became. I can withdraw from school with the credits I have and pick it up later. Besides, if I manage to do this successfully, I will get Life Experience credits as well," she said to him.

Severus stared at her, trying to figure out a way to discourage Hermione from this path.

Hermione then hit him with her final argument.

"Severus…I know that you harbor some guilt for creating the elixir in the first place," she said softly, "Don't you want to do something that will ease some of that guilt? Bella knows how to brew it. Someone else could get the formula and use it at another time. An antidote would protect us from other Dark Lords being created."

Severus continued to stare at her, his belly tight. Yes, he did harbor guilt that he helped create the monster that killed thousands before his own demise. It was something he lived with, shoved to the back of his mind. And she did have a point…now that the formula was in other hands, it could very well be used to create more Voldemorts at any given time. That was a frightening thought…one he had never considered.

"Hermione, I knew you would be an asset," Albus said to the witch, "Normally, Order members are required to give monthly service in whatever capacity they are needed in. However, in your case…I think we've already chosen yours. So you are hereby relieved of all service, except for one. Finding an antidote to the original elixir."

"But…but she has no lab sir," Severus said, still trying to be discouraging, "She can't use mine because Bartholomew uses it to brew. Something of this nature can't become common knowledge."

"I will have another lab set up in the subdungeons," the Headmaster replied, "Accessible through your private rooms, Severus."

Hermione had a thought. She paid for her flat through grants, scholarships and so forth. If she left school, she would have no income on which to live. She wasn't about to rely on Severus to support her.

"Um, Headmaster…do Order members get…well…paid?" she asked him.

Albus shook his head.

"No. All Order members are volunteers," he said.

"Oh," Hermione said shortly.

Severus looked at her. Albus had already made his decision, and as the leader of the Order…his word was law. There was nothing the Potions Master could do but go along with this madness.

"You can stay in my private rooms for the duration," he said to Hermione, "But it would have to remain a secret. No one can know I'm involved with you."

It was only right. He had practically lived at her flat for the past two years. He did stay at Hogwarts sometimes, but not often.

Hermione shook her head.

"No. I don't want to live like a prisoner, Severus," she said.

If she stayed with Severus, no one could see her. She'd be trapped in his rooms. She didn't want to live like that.

Albus looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps I could create some position for you…" he said, "There are thousands of records in disarray in the subdungeons, records of past students going back at least three hundred years that need to be organized. Such work would require you to be in the subdungeons alone for long periods of time. No one would question it, or you having your own quarters at Hogwarts. Of course, you would be compensated…not a large amount because I have very little surplus in the budget, but with your room and board covered, I believe you can live on it."

Severus scowled. He had been looking forward to having Hermione pinned down in his rooms. The witch was so independent, it would have been nice to have her…his prisoner. Ah, well. But it was a good idea.

"That sounds perfect, Headmaster," Hermione breathed, her eyes alight. She was in her element again.

"Of course, your lab will be accessible from your quarters, which will be in the dungeons," Albus added, his eyes twinkling.

Severus let out a little snort. Obviously Albus was trying to make it easier for them to "connect." But the Potions Master knew better. Once Hermione got into gear, there would be very little "connecting." The witch knew nothing else but her projects when she got started. More than likely, he would be regulated to the duty of "nursemaid" rather than "lover," making sure the witch bathed, ate and slept properly.

Hermione was absolutely beaming, her earlier petulance completely forgotten. She had a purpose now. To save a life and protect the wizarding world from the creation of other despots. She couldn't wait to get started. Already she was thinking about what magical creatures she could use.

Severus watched her, knowing the wheels in her curly head were already turning.

"I will get started on creating the lab and the quarters right away, Hermione," Albus said enthusiastically, "We should have you moved in within a week and a half.

Albus would have to get the new position of Record Keeper past the Board of Governors. He'd force it through, citing the records in the bowels of Hogwarts important documents of history that needed to be preserved.

"Now, I do have a meeting this morning," Albus said, "Is there anything else we need to address?"

Severus drew in a deep breath.

"Yes sir, just one more thing," he said, looking at Hermione who had a dazed look on her face. He snapped his fingers at her and she looked at him.

"Yes?" she asked the wizard.

"Before you drift off completely into the realm of possibility, I need to inform you that I have a meeting this evening with Bellatrix LeStrange," he said.

A look of horror immediately settled on Hermione's features.

"What? Alone?" she asked him.

"Yes. I believe she is going to ask me not to make the elixir for the competition. I plan to tell her I have created an even more powerful potion in an attempt to have her let me see the boy," Severus said.

Hermione frowned.

"But you don't have a more powerful elixir, do you Severus?" she asked him.

"No. But Bella doesn't know this. There will be no way she can tell when I give him the original elixir. If she does feel he isn't strong enough, I will tell her his powers will become stronger over time," the wizard replied.

Hermione still didn't like it. Bellatrix was extremely dangerous, and perfectly capable of attempting to kill Severus.

"She can't be trusted, Severus. She might try to kill you after you've served your purpose," the witch said, looking at him worriedly.

Hermione quickly found out that knowing for certain the danger the Potions Master was putting himself in was even worse than wondering about it. But Hermione had wanted to know…and now she had her wish. She'd just have to deal with it.

"She will need me to 'monitor' the boy. I highly doubt she would trust anyone else to do it since she considers the Death Eaters traitors to the memory of Voldemort. No doubt, I hold a traitorous position in her mind as well…but if I attend the boy, she will use me," Severus replied, "My usefulness ought to stay her hand."

"Ought to. You sound as if you think you are dealing with a normal witch, Severus. Bellatrix LeStrange is insane," Hermione said.

Severus nodded.

"But shrewd. It will work out Hermione, believe me," Severus said.

"How long will you be gone?" the witch asked him.

"I believe I will be back tonight. I won't have the elixir with me, so most likely we will set up a date and time when I can meet the boy and then I will return," he said, noting the worry in the witch's eyes.

"I told you I would always come back to you," he added softly, then his black eyes shifted to Albus who had a rather dreamy look on his face at his words.

Severus scowled and stood up.

"I believe we should be going now," he said stiffly, Albus smiling at him. "I will give you my report when I return, Headmaster."

Albus nodded, still giving him that insipid smile.

Hermione rose too.

"I'll talk to you later, Headmaster," she said, smiling as Severus hovered over her impatiently.

"Goodbye, Hermione. If I need you, I will contact you in the way of the Order," he said.

Hermione knew what that was…the sudden appearance of the image of a Phoenix feather.

"Yes sir. Goodbye," she said, walking over to the floo, Severus right behind her. He reached over the witch, grabbed a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace.

"My private rooms," he breathed.

The flames turned green and both he and Hermione stepped through.

* * *

Bellatrix LeStrange stood beneath two arching stones that met overhead. There were sparse bushes and many stones scattered about. It was a rather barren place she chose to meet Severus and a risky one as well. 

This private location was just outside of Hogwarts and the place where she had lured Severus in their youth, persuading him to introduce her to the Dark Lord in no uncertain manner. That had been the first and last time she engaged the wizard, though it was clear the Potions Master had enjoyed her immensely. But Severus showed no further interest in her afterwards, and this snub by the pale wizard did nothing to increase her fondness for him. In fact, it is part of what made her try to break Voldemort's faith in him at every opportunity. Hell hath no wrath like a witch scorned.

She looked overhead at the setting sun. He should be here soon. Bella fingered her wand in her pocket. If Severus did not agree to her wishes, she might be forced to kill him…if she could. But Severus was quite cautious and wouldn't hesitate to strike her down if he had to. Hopefully, he would see reason and there wouldn't be a confrontation.

"You look quite lost in thought, Bella," a silken voice purred. Bella turned quickly to see Severus with his wand trained on her. He held out his hand.

"Your wand," he said, his voice quiet and deadly, "It is safer in my hands than yours, I believe. I will return it to you when our meeting is completed."

Bella scowled at him.

"You don't trust me, Severus…when I put myself at risk to meet you, knowing you could possibly have given me up to the Ministry?" Bella snapped at him.

"No," he said, arching an eyebrow at her, "I don't, Bella. Now, your wand please."

Snarling, Bella slashed her wand down into Severus' hand with some force. It had to sting. But Severus said nothing as he put her wand securely in his robes pocket. Then he did the same with his own.

"Now, to what do I owe the honor of your summons" Severus asked her, folding his arms across his chest.

The gray-eyed witch looked at him consideringly a moment, then let her eyes rove over the area where they stood before resting on him again.

"Don't you remember this place, Severus? What happened beneath the kissing stones?" she asked him, her voice becoming low and seductive.

"Yes I do," he replied with a steely gaze, "This is the place you prostituted yourself to me in order to meet Voldemort."

"Prostituted!" Bella yelled, enraged, "How dare you…you enjoyed what I did for you!"

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"Whether I enjoyed it or not, Bella, doesn't change what you did," he said.

Bella fumed at him, then calmed herself.

"I am willing to 'prostitute' myself again for you, Severus, if you will agree to my request," she breathed at him. "I am still very good."

"And very used," Severus said, his nose wrinkling with distaste. "Remember I used to witness you and the Dark Lord. I have no interest in touching you in any manner, or you touching me. If that is what you have to bargain with…you already have lost the upper hand. I don't want you."

Bella made a very ugly face at him, wishing she had her wand. She could end this quickly and permanently.

"Still, tell me what you wish and I will consider it," Severus said to the witch, smirking a bit. He enjoyed rattling her.

"You must not make the elixir for the competition, Severus. It is wrong," she said to him, "They have no right to make a new Dark Lord from the inferior wizards in the ranks."

"But I have already given my word I would do it, Bella. I cannot take it back. My honor is at stake," Severus replied.

Bella actually spit on the ground.

"Honor? What honor, Severus. You have no honor if you turn on the Dark Lord!" she spat.

Severus cocked his head at the witch.

"The Dark Lord is dead," he said. "I cannot be disloyal to someone who no longer has need for my loyalty."

"He is not dead. I have him," Bella hissed.

Severus looked interested.

"Voldemort is dead, Bella," he repeated.  
The witch's face contorted, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the Potions Master.

"Voldemort may be dead…but his heir isn't. I have been raising him to take over his father's throne. He is almost ready, but I need more time, time to bring him to full power so he can reclaim the throne. If they place another Dark Lord in power, then it will be more difficult to claim what is rightfully his," Bella said.

"Voldemort has a child?" Severus asked, "I knew you were planning something like this, but I never believed you brought your plans to fruition. What is his name?"

"Voltaire. He is about to turn seventeen. He does not yet have enough power to assume his father's place, Severus. I need your help. If you help me…you will be rewarded. You will hold a position of power in the new regime," she said persuasively, "And if you do not help me, and he manages to take the throne with my help, you will be one of the first to die a terrible, terrible death."

Severus looked at her consideringly. It was some offer Bella was making him. Help or die. Now, how could he resist that?

"Bella, although Voldemort is dead, I have still been experimenting with the elixir I used to transform him," Severus said slowly, "and have created a more powerful brew that can give the imbiber three times the power given Tom Riddle. It is still risky, however, death is still a possibility,"

"Three times the power!" Bella breathed, her gray eyes lighting up lustfully, "I must have that brew, Severus. I will give you anything…anything," she said.

"This brew must be administered by a true Potions Master. You cannot do it," Severus continued, "Careful calculations have to be made before the proper dosage can be given. It requires a great knowledge of Arithmancy."

Severus was lying outright…but knew Bella had failed Arithmancy miserably.

Bella scowled for a moment, then said…"You could give it to him then, Severus. You could be his Potions Master."

Severus looked doubtful.

"I will bring you to my stronghold and you will meet him, see how suitable he is and do your calculations. Then you will administer the elixir and I will return you safely. Please Severus. Great things are in store for you if you do this," Bella said pleadingly.

The successful conclusion of everything the witch had planned all hinged on the Potions Master's reply. Severus studied her.

"What is in this for you, Bellatrix?" the wizard asked her.

"Power. I will reign beside Voltaire as his queen," she responded.

"Aren't you a bit old for the boy?" Severus responded, smirking.

"No!" she snapped at him, trying to keep her temper under control. Severus might receive a position of power, but she'd make sure Voltaire tortured the snarky bastard within an inch of his life at every opportunity. How she hated him.

Severus could see the hatred in her eyes. There would be no way he'd serve under Voltaire. He would most likely be worse than Voldemort in his treatment. He let his dark eyes drift over her slowly.

"Very well, Bella. I will have the elixir ready in about a month. I will meet you here a month from today, at this time and go to meet the boy. But Bella…I want an oath from you that you will return me safely should the boy die from the elixir," Severus said.

Bella thought about this.

"No. I will not give you such an oath, Severus. You may purposely poison him," she responded.

Severus did not expect her to say no to such a reasonable request, but again…she had a point. Still Severus believed he should argue the point.

"Why would I do that when I still have to administer the elixir to the winners of the competition as well? Like most, I also believe we need to be reunited under a new Lord. You have trained the boy all his life, and he is of Voldemort's bloodline…actually the most suitable to assume the throne. And you have promised me power. None of the other Death Eaters have made me such an offer. To kill Voltaire would be foolishness," the wizard purred at her.

"Be that as it may, Severus…I still need leverage. Knowing you may die will give you impetus to make sure the boy does not. I will not give you an oath," she said evenly.

"Then I will be allowed to retain my wand for my own protection, Bella. I will not enter your stronghold unarmed," Severus said.

After a moment's thought, the witch gave her answer.

"Done, then," Bella replied.

Even if Severus did get the upper hand, he would not be able to leave the stronghold without her. Even the house elves required her assistance to leave. Besides, she still had Volaria. If Voltaire died, she would force the witch to take the elixir. Once she transformed, she would be willing to rule. Or so Bella hoped.

Severus nodded, and handed Bella her wand…his own drawn. She took it back from him.

"One month from today," the witch said, her eyes narrowed, "Bring two doses."

Severus looked at her.

"Two doses? Why?" he asked her.

"I have my reasons," she said shortly.

Severus didn't press her. He would find out more when he went to the stronghold.

"One month from today, witch," he confirmed, his black eyes focused on her intently, watching for any treachery.

"Long live the Dark Lord," Bella breathed, then suddenly disapparated.

Severus let out a long sigh. That had been a rather tense meeting. But now, he had a way in. He would finally get to see the son of Voldemort.

* * *

Bella returned to her stronghold and quickly walked through, calling Voltaire. Volaria was in her bedroom reading and looked up when she heard her aunt's voice. She put the book down and disillusioned herself, exiting the bedroom and following the sound of Bellatrix's voice. 

She found her with Voltaire, standing on the arena grounds. Volaria pressed back against the doorway and listened to their conversation.

"Voltaire, you are going to have a visitor a month from now. A talented Potions Master who used to serve your father. I have enlisted his aid to serve you. He will be administering an elixir to bring you to full power. Things have changed, and you will have to claim your father's throne earlier than we planned. Do you think you can do this?" she asked the boy, who nodded eagerly.

"Yes, aunt Bella. If I am at full power I can do anything," he responded.

Bella smiled at him softly, running her hand around his cheek. He would be seventeen in two weeks.

"You are such an obedient young man, Voltaire. It is almost time for me to introduce you to the more…carnal pleasures of life. I will prepare pensieves of myself and your father…engaging, so you can see what to expect from me…and what I will expect from you. On the night of your seventeenth birthday I will come to you, and I will be more to you than I am now. You will accept me, Voltaire?" Bella asked him gently.

Voltaire swallowed.

"Oh yes, aunt Bella…with all my heart. I love you," he breathed, his eyes glowing redly, "I will always love you."

"Very good, Voltaire. Starting tomorrow, we will work on strengthening your curses and prepare you for battle. This will be very different, as I will be providing live targets…some with wands. They will be able to hurt you back, though I will disable them so they are not at full ability," she said to him.

"Human targets?" Voltaire asked her excitedly.

Bella nodded.

"Excellent," the boy responded, just as his father would have if he were pleased.

"I will also provide you with pensieves of the Potions Master when in service to your father, and how he was treated by him. When you come into power, you will treat him similarly…to keep him…humble. You will need him, Voltaire, but you don't want him to become too proud, too disdainful of you. He must be afraid of you. All of your subjects must be afraid of you," Bella said as Voltaire nodded.

"They will fear me, aunt Bella…they will all fear me, except you. You will never have to fear me," he said intensely.

Bella rewarded him with a long, sensuous kiss on the mouth that left the youngster with longing eyes and tented robes as she walked away.

He couldn't wait to see those pensieves.

* * *

Volaria frowned as she watched Bella walk away from Voltaire, who was staring after her with adoring eyes. Aunt Bella was going to provide humans for Voltaire to kill? Oh, this was terrible. And who was coming to the stronghold? She had never seen another human being other than Jordan, Bella and Voltaire. The young witch walked back to her bedroom, thinking hard. 

Another wizard coming to see Voltaire. A Potions Master who served her father. That meant he must be wicked too.

Volaria's blue eyes narrowed. She knew Bella would keep her out of sight. She didn't make any attempt to inform her of what was happening. Well, Volaria didn't plan on staying put. She wanted to see what was going on.

And she would. She would.

* * *

**_A/N: Severus didn't have to work too hard to get Bella to agree to let him see Voltaire. We got another look at the children and Bella's manipulation of the young wizard. Volaria has plans of her own. This could get very interesting. Thanks for reading._**


	5. Part 5

**A Song for Severus Part 5**

Hermione was pacing back and forth in her flat when Severus apparated in with a crack of thunder. Hermione launched herself at him, landing in the startled wizard's arms. She ran her hands over almost every inch of him as if to make sure he was all in one piece as Severus smirked at her.

"I'm whole witch," Severus said, catching her by the arms and holding her back from him.

"Thank the gods," Hermione breathed.

She was sure Bella was going to try to ambush the Potions Master.

"How did it go?" she asked, sitting down on the couch as Severus loosened the collar of his robes.

"Quite well. I am to meet Voltaire a month from today," he replied. He had already stopped by Hogwarts and informed Albus of his success.

"Voltaire?" Hermione repeated curiously.

"Yes, that is the boy's name," the wizard replied, opening his robes now. He felt like relaxing.

"Voltaire…Voldemort. Bella must have wanted his name to reflect his father's," she said thoughtfully.

"Yes, that's Bella," Severus agreed, "Subtle as a troll."

"So, did she try to bargain with you?" Hermione asked.

Severus walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink, making Hermione wait for an answer. He carried it back over to the sofa and sat down next to her, taking a small sip and letting out a harsh sound as he swallowed the fiery liquid down. He smacked his lips, Hermione scowling as she waited for him to answer. When he didn't, she repeated the question.

"Did Bella try to bargain with you, Severus?" she asked again.

"She did," Severus said shortly, offering nothing more.

"What did she want to bargain with? What did she have?" she asked Severus.

He took another sip of his firewhiskey then leveled his eyes on her.

"She offered me the same thing she gave me years ago when she wanted me to introduce her to Tom Riddle," he said quietly.

"What did she give you?" Hermione asked.

The look Severus gave her told Hermione all she wanted to know.

"You shagged Bellatrix LeStrange?" she yelled at him.

"Once," he admitted, eyeing Hermione. She was jealous.

Hermione sprang up off the sofa.

"I can't believe you!" she fumed, "Shagging her! Really, Severus."

Hermione started pacing, her face screwed up.

"Hermione, you were barely born when that happened. It was years and years ago," Severus said, smirking to see her so worked up. "Plus, it wasn't anything to write home about…I assure you. And I told her as much. She was furious."

"You did?" Hermione asked him, feeling a little better.

She knew it was silly to be jealous over something that happened so long ago, but she was. Bellatrix LeStrange was a lovely witch, insane or not. When she first escaped Azkaban, she was a bit worn, but freedom and no doubt a touch of magic had restored her wild beauty.

Severus nodded.

"And Bella, with all her experience, never held a candle to the first time I was with you," the wizard added.

Severus' first possession of Hermione was a memory he treasured greatly. He had been carried away by his passion and lost all sense of himself. Something that had never occurred before. He had always retained his sensibilities when engaging witches before that, had always been able to think, to consider the situation before he acted. With Hermione…it had been different. Different enough to change his life.

Hermione sat down next to him.

"You mean that, Severus? Or are you just trying to make me feel better?" she asked him.

"Of course I mean it!" he snapped.

"All right, all right," Hermione said, smiling at the scowling wizard. "So what did she do after you turned her down?"

"Well, begged me for the 'new, improved elixir' and agreed to let me visit the boy and administer it," Severus said.

Hermione looked at him closely. One of the bad things about becoming close with someone is that they become quite attuned to you. And Hermione, although she couldn't tell everything about the Potions Master, she could feel when he was withholding something from her.

"There's a down side to this, Severus. What is it?" she asked.

Severus blinked at her. How the fuck did she always know he was hiding something? He was an established liar and a master Occlumens. It was…infuriating. Well, since the witch knew what he was up to, he didn't have to hide things concerning his work from her any longer…technically. But since Hermione loved him, there were aspects that he didn't want to share with her simply to keep her from going insane with worry.

"I couldn't get her to take an oath that she wouldn't attempt to kill me if Voltaire died from the elixir," Severus said in a low voice, "She felt I might not do my best to help him survive if she agreed to that. The witch is insane, but not stupid. Although I would not poison Voltaire, if that were an option I certainly would have taken advantage of her oath."

Severus' brow furrowed.

"She wants me to bring enough elixir for two doses," he added.

Hermione looked at him.

"Two doses? Why?" she asked him.

Severus slowly shook his head.

"I don't know," he replied, finishing his firewhiskey and setting the glass down on the end table near the arm.

Hermione had a terrible thought.

"Maybe she intends to take the elixir herself if Voltaire dies," she said to Severus, who gave an evil little smile.

"If she does, that will kill two dragons with one wand," he replied, "Bella would more than likely die too, then we could round up the rest of the Death Eaters and end this madness once and for all."

Severus looked as if he'd much prefer this scenario. And he would…even if he had to 'help' Bella to her grave, killing her while she seizured. His eyes narrowed dreamily.

"You're absolutely blood-thirsty, Severus," Hermione said, frowning.

"I'm not blood-thirsty. I am simply considering the most expedient way to solve the problem," the Potions Master replied.

Hermione sighed as he stood up and walked back over to the liquor cabinet. She thought he was going to get another drink, but Severus simply scourgified the glass and put it back in its holder.

"Now," he said, turning on her, "Care to tell me what has been burgeoning from that brilliant brain of yours while I've been gone?"

Severus was referring to her assignment of creating an anti-elixir to try and save Voltaire from a life of confinement, or death.

"Well, I've decided what I'm going to use to experiment on," she said to him, looking just a bit guilty.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her. He knew Hermione had a heart like butter, but she couldn't be upset about testing the elixir on lab animals could she? Not someone who cut up a cadaver like she was boning a chicken.

"So, what kind of magical animal are you going to use to turn into the beast version of the Dark Lord?" Severus asked her.

Hermione twisted her hands a bit. Severus recognized that as a sign of nervousness and rested his eyes on her curiously. Normally nothing fazed the witch when there was research and experimentation afoot.

"I've decided not to use animals, Severus. I needed something more," she said softly.

"What then?" he asked impatiently.

What was there besides animals other than people?

"I've decided to use fairies. Pixies," she said.

Severus didn't say anything. Hermione shifted and began to explain why as if to convince herself rather than the Potions Master.

"They are like humans in appearance and have very weak magical powers they use to repel predators. They would be perfect to experiment on. Their increase in power would be measurable, but most likely not deadly to adult witches and wizards if the elixir goes into full effect," she said.

Severus looked at Hermione. No wonder she seemed contrite. Pixies looked like tiny blue human beings with wings but were considered creatures, and by some people, pests. A flock of pixies could be very annoying at outdoor gatherings, buzzing humans like mosquitoes, raiding open food stores and flying off with whatever they could carry.

Still, Severus knew it would be difficult for the witch to work with the tiny creatures at first because of just how human they looked, but Hermione was going to have to get past it. This was for the Greater Good after all.

"A good choice," he said shortly, joining her on the sofa again.

Hermione looked at him.

"Yes, they are a good choice," she repeated, "I…I've just got to get used to the idea. They are so human-like,"

"A couple of bites, scratches and burning boils will take care of that outlook," Severus said with a smirk. "Pixies are mean little buggers, looks notwithstanding. They might look human, Hermione, but their actions are distinctly animal in nature. They act on instinct and instinct alone, and there are thousands of them, if not millions. Using pixies makes perfect sense. Once you acquaint yourself with the creatures, you won't be quite so uncomfortable," the Professor said.

Hermione nodded, then stared at the floor for a moment or two. Severus thought it best to get her mind off the pixies for the moment. There was something even more dangerous she needed to worry about.

"Do you know how to milk a King Cobra, Hermione?" he asked her silkily.

That ought to make her come around. Hermione looked at him startled.

"King Cobras? No!" she said as Severus smirked at her.

"If you are going to make the elixir, you are going to have to have snake venom…fresh snake venom. The fresher, the better," the dark wizard said, his black eyes glittering, "Preferably still warm from the snake."

Hermione blanched slightly. She was a bit afraid of snakes. For some reason she thought the venom could be bottled or something. Severus saw the flicker of fear in her eyes. He guessed her studies at university hadn't covered milking venomous creatures yet.

"Well, you are going to have to learn to do it, and do it well. I don't need to tell you how dangerous the creatures are," the wizard said.

Oh dear gods. Milking snakes. Hermione sighed. She had to learn to do it if she were to hope to successfully develop the anti-elixir.

"Will you teach me how to do it, Severus?" she asked the wizard, who nodded.

"Yes. Albus has already had the snake pit constructed. It will be right off your lab. Once you learn how to use the grabber properly…" he began.

"Grabber? What's that?" Hermione asked him.

"Basically it is a long stick with a rope loop on the end that you slip over the snake's neck and tighten so you can harvest it. It's a bit tricky, but with practice is quite simple to do. It will allow you to catch the snake behind the head and milk it. But I use another technique rather than force the venom from the snake's glands by pressing them against the edge of a glass jar. To do that damages the glands over time and shortens the snake's life span."

"What do you do then?" Hermione asked him.

"Torment and tease them with the jar until they bite it," Severus said with a little grin, "that way the release of venom is voluntary."

"Oh dear gods, Severus. You want me to aggravate them too?" Hermione asked him. It was bad enough throttling the cobras with a rope and dragging them from a pit by the neck. It would seem they would already be significantly pissed to strike anything that came close to them.

"Well, I thought with your soft heart, you'd like the process to be as humane as possible," the wizard purred, "And then, Hermione…there is the matter of creating the anti-venom…"

"I've already thought of that," Hermione said, "the muggles use horses to create the anti-bodies. I'm going to use thestrals. They are close to horses. Sort of."

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"Do you think it's smart to use a creature that is so…connected to Death?" the wizard asked her.

Thestrals were black, carnivorous winged horses with staring white eyes. They were very skinny, skeletal really and slightly reptilian as well. The creatures were supposed to bring bad luck, and were only visible to those who had witnessed death. Hagrid had a tame herd of them and they were used to pull carriages at Hogwarts.

"That's just a magical property that affects whoever is looking at the creatures. Not the creatures themselves. Thestrals still create anti-bodies, Severus. Anyway I will test the ant-venom on the pixies first," Hermione replied, frowning at him.

Severus shrugged.

"It's your project, Hermione," he said, "I just hope you don't come up with an anti-venom that is more venomous than the King Cobra venom," he said, knowing his statement would make Hermione angry. He felt like teasing her a bit.

"I won't!" she snapped at him, "I know exactly what I'm doing! I'm not a novice, Severus!"

"Compared to me you are," Severus purred at her.

Hermione turned a deep shade of red. He was right.

Annoyed, Hermione plopped back on the sofa, scowling blackly, her lips in a thin line as she folded her arms. She was furious at him, although all he did was speak the truth.

Severus tried not to chuckle at her, but a small sound slipped out anyway. Hermione glowered at him, then wisps of smoke started to trickle out of her ears. Severus readied himself.

"That's it!" Hermione cried, jumping up and going for a heavy book on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She'd had it with the Potions Master's smugness.

Severus scrambled, and scrambled fast, ducking low as the book flew past his head. He sprinted down the hallway and into Hermione's bedroom, the witch pursuing him, waving a vase. Hermione ran into the bedroom and slammed the door closed behind her, trapping Severus inside.

"Now hold still!" Hermione seethed at him, aiming the vase at his head, the wizard weaving back and forth against the far wall, a taunting look on his pale face.

"You throw that vase at me, Hermione, and I promise...you will be very sorry," Severus said warningly.

"Oh really?' she hissed at him, letting the vase fly.

Severus threw up his arms as it flew towards him. The vase crashed into the wall on the right, showering him with shattered pieces of white and pink ceramic. Hermione ran to her dresser to get more ammunition, and the wizard dove at her, missing as the witch drew back but getting smacked hard in the forehead with a heavy wooden hairbrush for his trouble.

"You minx!" the Potions Master snarled, rubbing his forehead, then going for her again.

There was a crash, another crash, a thump, a squeal, a couple of deep curses, then the sounds of a struggle that eventually died away, shortly followed by another more rhythmic sound...

Creaking bedsprings.

* * *

"Thank you for shopping at the Music Symposium," Malina said cheerily to the frowning young wizard exiting the store. She slumped when he exited, then stalked around the counter.

"Damn. Some people act as if I press the damn albums myself," she groused, walking back down the aisle and straightening all the albums she had to dig through before the customer accepted the fact she didn't have the album "Dark Lording" by the Warlocks.

As she worked, Malina heard the tinkle of the bell that announced another potential customer had entered the store. She quickly walked back to the counter and looked about, but didn't see or hear anyone. She walked to the head of each of the four aisles, looking down them to see where the customer went. She frowned slightly when she didn't see anyone.

The bell was charmed and wouldn't have rung if someone simply opened the door and didn't enter. Someone was on the premises.

Malina was here alone today. Clarissa, the blonde who had taken a liking to Draco was supposed to have been in…but claimed to have a very bad case of cramps that even magic couldn't seem to help. Malina knew she was bailing, but it didn't bother her. Clarissa did so little work anyway when Malina was there, it was like being by herself anyway.

Malina pulled out her wand from her back pocket, her black eyes shifting about.

"Hello? Is anyone in here?" she called out.

There was no response.

"All right. I tried it the nice way," the witch said to herself.

Suddenly she flashed her wand forward.

"Accio intruder!" Malina cried, taking a defense stance ready to hex if she didn't like the looks of whoever appeared.

There was a sudden shout, the noise of items falling, then Draco Malfoy came zooming up the center aisle two feet off the floor, his arms wheeling and robes fluttering wildly around him. Malina leaped out of the way and he crashed into the front counter and fell into a painful little pile. Dazed, he looked up at her.

Malina scowled down at him.

"Draco, why didn't you answer me?" she demanded as the wizard slowly picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his head.

"I wanted to surprise you," he replied, touching the top of his skull. It hurt like hell.

Malina smirked.

"Well, you managed to do that all right," Malina said, walking back around the counter without offering Draco any comfort at all.

As far as she was concerned, it served the pureblood right. Draco was forever creeping up on her. Sometimes he gave her the creeping fugwugs.

Draco straightened his robes and tried to recover the shreds of his dignity as Malina set about opening a box of new albums that arrived that morning.

"So," he said, "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Overjoyed," Malina said sarcastically as she pulled out a stack of albums and put them in a little cart.

The witch wheeled the cart around the counter and started up the first aisle, Draco following her, his gray eyes resting on her hips appreciatively. He liked the fact Malina never fawned all over him. Despite their being lovers, she made him work for every bit of affection she showed him. He liked working past her aloofness.

Malina stopped, picked up an album and slid it into a display. Draco took advantage of her back being turned to him to ease up, wrap his arms around her slender waist and kiss the side of her throat.

"Draco! Stop that," she said, turning on him and taking his arms from around her waist. Draco grinned at her naughtily.

"The other night, you were saying 'Don't stop, Draco,' he teased her, his eyes hot.

Malina frowned at him though she felt a little pulse of heat for the wizard.

"That was the other night. Not now," she snapped at him, pushing the cart up the aisle a little before stopping again. "Now, I'm trying to work. Don't you have something to go oversee?"

"No. Just you," Draco responded.

Malina stopped at the end of the aisle and scowled as she saw a huge display of albums all over the floor. She whirled on Draco.

"I suppose you were hiding behind that display when I accio'd you," she said to him.

Draco shrugged, looking at the mess. Malina sighed, pulled out her wand and fixed the display, the albums restacking themselves tier after tier in a conical shape.

"Next time you come to see me Draco, please just come up to the counter like a normal person," she said to him, her eyes narrowed.

"What's the fun in that?' he asked.

"You consider flying headfirst into a checkout counter fun?" Malina asked him, an arched eyebrow arched even higher. "You need therapy, Draco. Lots and lots of therapy."

"What's therapy?" Draco asked, unfamiliar with the muggle term.

Malina sighed.

"Nothing," she responded, moving on with the cart, the handsome wizard following her. Draco put his hand in his pocket, then drew something out.

"Um Malina…I have something for you," Draco said.

Malina stopped the cart and eyed him. Normally when Draco said he had something for her, he meant a hard-on. Plus, he was forever trying to get her to let him shag her in the record shop.

"It would be exciting," he'd claim.

But Malina didn't think so.

"Draco…: she said warningly, putting her hands on her hips.

"No," Draco said smirking a bit, "Not that, Malina…this."

He pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside was a beautiful ring…obviously a man's ring from the look of it. It was exquisite. A thick platinum band with set with a beautiful emerald. Set in the emerald was the bloom of a tiny, perfect rose. A thin platinum chain ran through it.

"That's pretty Draco," Malina said, looking at the ring and trying not to seem too impressed, although she was. "But that's a man's ring."

"It's my ring," he said softly, drawing it out of the box, "But it's on your necklace. I want you to wear it, Malina. I want you to carry something of mine with you."

It was the ring Draco had Rosier make for him.

"I had it designed with you, my rose, in mind," the wizard said, "Your bloom will never fade in my heart, Malina. Take it. Please."

Malina's dark eyes met Draco's and she saw the sincerity in them. She turned her back to him.

"Put it on me," she said.

Smiling, Draco unclasped the necklace, reached around Malina and put it on her. Malina turned back around and looked down at it a moment, before tucking it under her shirt. Then she looked at Draco.

"Thank you," she said, kissing him lightly on the lips. Draco's gray eyes flashed at her.

"Dinner tonight at the manor?" he asked, "We're having fish and chips."

Malina loved fish and chips. Though Draco could serve her anything she imagined she wanted, the basics always worked for her. She studied the wizard. It was clear fish and chips weren't the only thing on his mind. Malina smiled.

"How can I resist?" she replied. "I'll be there at seven."

Draco gave her a big smile and kissed her again, this time Malina allowing him to slip her a little tongue, but just a little. She drew away, leaving him hungry.

"You're a tease," he growled at her.

"You love it," she said, turning to her cart again and rolling it into the next aisle.

"That's not all I love," Draco responded.

Malina looked back at him and blushed as the wizard looked at her soberly. Draco intended to keep Malina at all costs.

"Until later, my rose," Draco said with a bow, then strode up the aisle and exited the store. Malina watched him go, then sighed.

Whatever was she to do with Draco? She pulled out the ring and looked at it. It really was lovely and it made her feel connected to the blonde wizard. She tucked it back into her shirt and finished putting the album away.

Draco smiled darkly as he walked to the public apparition point. She had accepted his ring. Excellent. The piece of jewelry had a little extra something placed on it, something that would be quite useful to him. An undetectable tracking charm. The latest thing created for Aurors for use in tracking suspected criminals. Draco had paid quite a pretty galleon to get the spell. Malina would kill him if she found out. But she'd never find out.

Slytherin house had struck again.

* * *

Eloise Hedgeberry stared at the pentacle in the palm of her hand. She hadn't even noticed it until a young customer who she was handing change to remarked on it.

"Cool," the young man said, eyeing the circle enclosed star, "That a tattoo? Never seen one in someone's palm before."

Eloise stared at the image. It was actually made up of the fine lines in her hand, and looked as if it had always been there.

"What the fuck is going on?" she muttered to herself.

She dropped in on her doctor the next day on her lunch after her bout of amnesia. She called ahead and the doctor agreed to see her. He checked her out thoroughly.

"I can't find anything wrong except for a rather accelerated heartbeat, Miss Hedgeberry," the doctor said, looking at her thoughtfully. "But that could be the result of stress related to your incident. Basically, you appear to be in perfect health. All I can tell you is that you may want to check yourself into the hospital for a thorough exam."

Eloise really didn't want to go to the hospital. She hated it. It was hard enough to go to the doctor. Plus, she'd miss work. Even missing a single day meant more hardship. But the doctor said she was in good health. She'd accept that. If anything was physically wrong, he would have found something. At least, that's what she told herself as she thanked the doctor and left. She told him nothing about the pentacle.

That evening when she showered, Eloise noticed quite a bit of hair on her legs. It looked thicker than it normally was. She frowned.

"Damn it. I just shaved," she complained, picking up her razor and lotion.

That night, she had trouble sleeping. It seemed as if she heard everything in the apartment building. The conversations of neighbors, people walking about, every creak of the old building she occupied…even the fucking bugs in the walls. Eloise wrapped her pillow around her head and finally fell asleep. The next morning, she found her legs covered in stubble.

"Shit," she said, applying the razor again.

Later that day, two young boys walked into the sweet shop. They couldn't have been more than ten years old. They wandered around the shop for a bit, then came to the counter, each with a peppermint stick. As Eloise took their money, she looked at the first boy with narrowed eyes. The boy blanched guilty.

Eloise held her hand out.

"Give it here, now," she said firmly.

Slowly, the boy pulled a box of chocolates out of his jacket pocket. Eloise had smelled it on him, even though the box was sealed.

"Get along," she said to both boys, who bolted from the shop.

"She must have seen you nick it," one boy said to his friend as they both slowed down.

"No…there's no way. She was behind the counter," the other said, opening his peppermint stick, "and did you see her hand? There was a star in it. She's a witch I bet."

His friend laughed.

"There's no such thing as witches," he declared, popping his peppermint stick in his mouth. "That's all fairy tales."

"I don't know," the boy said, "There's something weird about her. I'm going to Kerryman's candy shop from now on, the one over on Surrey. A bloke could nick the shelves clean and no one would say a word."

Eloise put the candy back in the proper place, wondering how she smelled it on the youngster. Things were getting crazy. First the amnesia, then a pentacle appearing on her hand, her leg hair growing so fast she could practically see it sprout and now this.

Something very eerie and strange was going on and she didn't know what to do about it.

That evening while riding the tube, a man sitting next to Eloise was peeling an apple with a pocket knife.

"Fuck!" the man cursed as he accidentally cut his thumb.

Eloise immediately stiffened, her eyes sliding to the man's hand and focusing on the drops of blood running down it. It smelled delicious, sweet. Her mouth began to water as she stared at it. Suddenly the hand disappeared under a piece of napkin and she snapped out of her spell. The man looked at her.

"Sorry 'bout that, Miss. I know for some people the sight of blood just make them seize up," he said smiling at her, then biting into the apple.

Eloise tried to compose herself. She had been attracted to the man's blood, not repelled by it. It was like she wanted to lick it off his flesh. Was she developing some kind of blood fetish? She shuddered and wished the train would hurry up.

When Eloise left the station, she walked past a butcher shop and was compelled to stop and go in. She looked at the cuts of meat on display. Damn, they were pricey. There was a thick bloody steak resting on white wax paper. Eloise pressed her face against the glass like a child at a sweet shop. The butcher looked over at her. He had been cutting some meat and put down his cleaver, wiping his hands on his apron before walking over.

"Nice cut of meat, that," he said to Eloise, who popped up suddenly.

"Yes, it is," she said, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Should I wrap it up for you?" the butcher inquired, looking at her a bit strangely. Her eyes didn't seem quite right.

Eloise looked at the price and shook her head slowly.

"No. It's too much. I can't afford that," she said.

The butcher studied her.

"I tell you what…I'll give it to you for half price," he offered.

Eloise looked at the cut again. Even at half price it was expensive…but…

"All right," Eloise said, fishing into her pocket for some notes.

The butcher removed the steak from the display case and wrapped it up in brown paper and handed it to her, taking the notes.

"Now, don't overcook that," he said to Eloise, "You want a nice piece like that a little on the rare side for the best flavor."

"Thank you," Eloise said, exiting the shop.

When Eloise got home, she went straight to the kitchen and set a pan on the stove. She unwrapped the steak and seasoned it with salt and pepper as she waited for the pan to heat up. As she waited, she stared at the steak, the rich, red meat seeming to undulate before her eyes. She could see little rivulets of blood between the moist meaty tissues, glistening redly, the scent of it filling her nostrils. Again, her mouth started to water.

Eloise opened her utensil drawer and took out a sharp knife. She cut a small sliver of the raw meat off, picked it up between her thumb and forefinger, sniffing it. She almost drooled on herself.

"What's wrong with me?" she thought as she placed the sliver of meat on her tongue.

It was cold, but as she chewed it, a look of pure bliss crossed her face. The flesh was so tender and delicious, the blood so tasty though she would have preferred it warm. Eloise looked down at the steak, then slowly cut off the flame beneath the frying pan. She reached into the upper cabinet and retrieved a plate, then grabbed a fork from the utensil drawer. She transferred the raw steak to the plate, leaving the brown wrapper on the counter as she walked to the kitchen table.

She put the plate down, drew out the chair and sat down in front of the plate, her eyes narrowed.

Eloise knew this was absolutely barbaric and disgusting…eating raw meat. She thought about the possibility of her getting sick, but the smell of the steak was mesmerizing, and holding it securely with her fork, she sliced through it, popping a thin slice into her mouth and chewing with an expression of indescribable pleasure on her face.

Disgusting or not…that steak was good.

* * *

Albus walked Severus through Hermione's lab. It was larger than his own lab, Severus noticed with a slight scowl. But then again he was 'only' Hogwarts' Potions Master. He just needed a shoebox sized lab for the tons of work he was required to do.

Severus snorted.

Albus blinked at him.

"Is everything all right, Severus?" Albus asked the wizard.

"Oh, just fine, Albus. Just fine," Severus replied a bit jealously.

Albus' blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon glasses but he said nothing.

The wizard examined everything closely. Hermione had plenty of equipment, all new…gleaming cauldrons, bright glass distillers, mortars and pestles, bowls, measuring cups, utensils…you name it, it was provided.

The ingredient stores were well stocked, though Hermione would need more for this particular project. There was a small enclosed area with a large window in front. Venom collectors and heavy dragon hide gloves lined the shelves. There was a small little raised platform, the top bordered on all sides with panes of thick glass. Presumably the snake would rest there while being milked. Grabbers and restraining sticks hung from the walls. There was also a small cooler.

Albus opened a door at the back of the lab and walked through, followed by Severus. The room seemed to have been hollowed out rather than constructed and was quite warm. Torches immediately flared up and hissing began. In the middle of the room a pit filled with scattered boulders, hollowed logs and rock piles was brightly illuminated. A small pond rested in the center of the pit. Several King cobras slithered about then rose with hoods spread, swaying slightly as they looked at the two human intruders. They were of a good size but not fully grown. Their forked tongues flickered out in warning.

"Very nice," Severus said, looking about for the grabber, which rested against the wall. It was about twelve feet in length. Severus looked back at the pit consideringly. Hermione was going to have to be quick if she wanted to catch a cobra. There were many places for the snakes to hide and elude her.

At that moment, Hagrid appeared, carrying a cage full of twisting hissing snakes. They weren't cobras however and appeared to be grass snakes, relatively slender, green, olive or brownish in coloration, with a distinct black-edged yellow or white crescent on each side of the neck. The half-giant shouldered his way through the door and greeted the two wizards.

"Hiya Perfessor. Headmaster," he said cheerily, walking up to the edge of the pit and looking down on the hissing snakes fondly.

"Hi meh beauties!" he greeted the snakes, who did not return the greeting, their glittering eyes resting on the cage of snakes. "It's suppertime! Eat up!"

Hagrid opened the cage and shook the smaller snakes out into the pit, some of the creatures clinging desperately to the door before Hagrid managed to get them to let loose. The sound of hissing increased as the new additions were added to the pit.

"That'll get 'em going," Hagrid said, watching as several snakes struck.

"Hagrid, am I correct in assuming that the killing of reptiles is…prohibited in England?" Severus asked the giant as they watched the mayhem. Snakes were protected in England due to intense persecution by humans in the past.

"Aw, that's just people killing 'em. Killing each other is fine," Hagrid replied.

Severus watched dispassionately as a large cobra unhinged its jaws and went about the slow process of swallowing down a limp snake, then looked at Hagrid.

"A bit cannibalistic aren't they?" he said to Hagrid, who shrugged.

"That's why they call 'em Kings," Hagrid replied, "They eat other snakes, though they like lizards too. I guess they'd eat a rat in a pinch, but I'm try'in to keep them to their proper diet. I could've gotten bigger ones but Hermione's so small. If a full grown King cobra rose up, it'll be taller than her…and they're scary enough."

No doubt Hagrid knew about Hermione using the snakes for some kind of experiment, but Severus seriously doubted if the Headmaster had given him all the details. Not that Hagrid was untrustworthy…Albus trusted the half-giant greatly. But most likely he would be horrified at the idea Voldemort had a son and worry over it constantly. A worried Hagrid was an annoying Hagrid to say the least. He'd be questioning Albus ceaselessly.

Severus studied the snakes. Voldemort's familiar Nagini hadn't been nearly as picky about what she ate. She did fine on muggle body parts and small children. The Potions Master shuddered a bit at the memory of Peter dismembering bodies left over from the revels and feeding the hideous snake.

Albus stared down into the pit, a slight pallor on his face. He clearly wasn't taken by the cobras. No, Albus Dumbledore definitely wasn't a snake person.

Severus looked at Hagrid thoughtfully as the giant watched the cobras feed, egging them on enthusiastically. Same old Hagrid. The more terrible the creature, the more he longed to coddle it. Well, if he ever got down in that pit, the coddling wouldn't last very long at all. The snakes would be resting on his body as if he were a boulder.

"Hagrid, will you be feeding the snakes?" the Potions Master asked.

"Yeh, I will," Hagrid said absently, concentrating on the snakes.

Severus looked thoughtful. "How often?"

"Every two-three weeks," Hagrid replied, "The snakes 'round here aren't too big."

"I see," Severus said as several well fed snakes slid toward the rocks to find a place to hide and digest their meals. "I imagine you will show Miss Granger how to feed them. It is something she needs to know if you should be otherwise occupied."

Hagrid looked at Severus.

"You know, I never thought 'bout that. Yeah, she needs to know that, she does. I'll let her do a feeding when she moves in. She'll love it," Hagrid said with a broad smile.

"I'm sure she will," Severus said dryly, smirking to himself.

He turned to Albus, who was still staring at the snakes.

"Headmaster?" Severus said to him.

Albus snapped out of it.

"Ah, yes Severus," he said, blinking several times.

"I would like to utilize Hermione's lab to brew the elixir," Severus said to him. "Hermione is going to need several samples with which to work, not to mention what I require. My own lab is not secure enough."

"Certainly Severus," the Headmaster replied, "I kept you in mind when designing it."

Ah, so that's why Hermione's lab was so large. Severus felt less insulted now.

"How is Hermione doing, Severus? Is she excited?" the Headmaster asked as they left the snake pit area and returned to the lab.

Severus rolled his eyes. Was she excited? Did dragons fly? Did bugbears drag off small children? All Hermione talked about was how she was going to approach the experiment, and that seemed to change every day. The witch was insufferable and Severus was having a time getting his last bits of nookie out of her before she started her work. Then he would be pussyless.

"Quite excited, sir. She can't wait to begin," the Potions Master replied darkly.

Albus grinned.

"She has amazing powers of concentration. I seem to remember her in her seventh year, working on her end-of-term assignment, walking about Hogwarts looking quite…unlike herself," the Headmaster said.

He was being generous. Hermione had been required to create an original potion for her final. Well, not required. The students had a choice of what to work on and a month to complete it. Of course, the witch picked the most difficult and challenging assignment. Hermione looked like a zombie, pale, drawn, shadows under her eyes, her hair tangled all over the top of her head and her robes buttoned wrong as she moved about the castle. She did manage to make a potion that temporarily changed the eye color of the person who drank it to blue. Severus gave her less than perfect marks because it did nothing to blue-eyed persons. She had been furious. It was the Potions Master's last jibe at her before she graduated. Yet, when Hermione received her final marks…she found the dark wizard had indeed given her perfect marks for overall performance.

When Hermione approached Severus about her marks after the ceremony, he said snarkily, "It is not too late for me to change them, Miss Granger. I have several days in which to do so if I am so inclined. Now that you have graduated, I am free of you, and you are free go out into the world and harass some other Potions Professor, the gods help him," then stalked off, robes billowing, Hermione smiling after him.

That was the moment Hermione realized that Professor Severus Snape was actually…human. And most likely the kick that got the wheels turning for what happened between them later.

"Yes, Hermione does have the ability to shut the rest of the world out when focused on a project," Severus replied, "Not to mention her own need for food and rest. She runs on pure purpose. She will have to be monitored."

"Thank you for volunteering for the job, Severus," Albus said to him smiling.

Severus scowled. Of course he was going to look after Hermione, but he hadn't intended to have her "assigned" to him by Albus.

"Oh, don't look so sour, Severus. Now if Hermione complains you can say that I have instructed you to look after her well-being. It will be two against one, instead of one against one. Use whatever means you see fit to make sure she is healthy and gets what she needs," the Headmaster said.

Severus quirked an eyebrow at him.

"And I am to decide what she needs…with your support?" the Potions Master asked.

Albus nodded.

"Yes," he replied.

Severus smiled evilly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

A week later, Hermione moved into her private rooms at Hogwarts. She was delighted with the lab, but asked that another enclosure be created, filled with plants, flowers and earth. She wanted to keep the pixies in as natural a surrounding as possible, rather than caged and able to witness what happened to their comrades. All the little creatures would know was that some were taken and didn't return. This was how their lives were in the wild, so it wouldn't be strange.

"Trying to assuage some of your guilt, eh?" Severus asked Hermione as he watched the pixies flit from plant to plant, eating, playing, fighting and mating inside the enclosure. Severus studied them as they copulated. Hm. Decent technique. It seems pixies had their own brand of sexual creativity. Hermione blushed a bit and drew down the blind.

"No. It's not guilt. I just want them in good shape to experiment with. In a cage they'd be miserable and not in top form," she lied.

Severus wasn't fooled. He walked over to a simmering cauldron and lifted the top, a stench like sulfur filling the lab. Hermione pinched her nose shut and waved her hand.

"That smells awful," she complained as Severus stirred the mixture counter-clockwise thirteen times, then replace the lid and turned the burner down slightly.

"That is the stench of success. The elixir is almost finished," the Potions Master said, his eyes glittering, "Now, are you ready for your first snake retrieval lesson?"

Hermione wanted to say no, she wasn't, but she had to do this. She had already examined the snake pit, and the King cobras all came out en masse when she and the Potions Master entered the room, making a great display of hissing and spreading their hoods as if purposely trying to frighten the witch.

"Are these ordinary King cobras?" Hermione asked, eyeing the creatures as they swayed back and forth two and three feet off the ground, "They look like they're trying to scare me."

"As far as I know they are ordinary snakes," Severus said, "It could be that they are conditioned to think that when the door opens, it's feeding time. I am sure they have no personal grudge against you….well…I'm almost sure."

The wizard smirked as Hermione scowled at him. He then walked over to the wall and took down the grabber, loosening the noose until there was about a foot of loop.

"Now, watch closely," the Potions Master said, stretching out the long handle of the grabber into the pit. "Be sure to keep away from the edge. You wouldn't want to take a tumble."

Hermione watched as Severus lowered the noose to the right of a swaying cobra, who struck at it several times. Severus held it steady for a moment, then moved it closer, raising the loop a little so about three inches cleared the cobra's head. He shook the grabber a little and the cobra struck again. Severus flicked the loop over its head, and pulled the end of the rope by the handle, tightening it then wrapping the loose end around a little hook to hold it secure. The snake lashed about, hissing violently as the Potions Master hauled it in and caught it behind the head under the loop. The snake's body wrapped around his arm, its dark, staring eyes looking at the pale wizard malevolently.

"Simple," Severus said to Hermione, who was staring at the snake.

Severus unwrapped the cobra and leaning slightly, lowered the snake back into the pit then unloosened the noose. It slid quickly away to coil under a stack of stones, still hissing angrily at such unkingly treatment.

Severus handed the grabber to Hermione who fumbled it awkwardly.

"Go on," he said imperiously, folding his arms.

The snakes all stood, a little taunt to their sway now as Hermione clumsily reached in with the grabber, trying to snag one. The snakes weaved and bobbed like armless boxers, striking at the grabber and avoiding it. After about fifteen minutes, Hermione managed to lasso one, pulling the noose so tight, the snake began to choke, its mouth gaping horribly wide as its air supply was cut off.

"Loosen it!" Severus snapped at her as Hermione stared in horror, unable to move.

Severus reached over and pulled the rope from her hand, letting the snake go. It flopped lifelessly to the ground.

"Oh no!" Hermione cried, her eyes glistening, "I've killed it!"

Presently, the snake moved, slowly slithering into a hollow log.

"You're not going to get much venom that way witch," Severus observed, "I hope you're better at catching pixies."

Hermione wasn't.  
Severus watched, contorting with unreleased laughter as Hermione entered the pixie enclosure with a butterfly net. The pixies easily escaped her at first, then became agitated as she kept swooping at them with the net. They began to pull her hair and bite her, a few grabbing on the net and trying to yank it out of her hands while others hit her with tiny fire bolts, making small, painful boils appear on her skin. Soon Hermione was flailing at them, netless and screaming at them to leave her alone.

Severus opened the door and cast a spell on the creatures that made them stiffen and float immobile in the air. He pulled Hermione out and shut the door.

"Didn't you cast a similar spell on a bunch of Cornish Pixies in your second year?" he asked her.

"Yes," Hermione said, rubbing her arms. A number of little boils were all over them. "I thought it would be kinder and less traumatizing to do it this way."

"It's certainly more entertaining," Severus smirked, "Though I believe you were the only one traumatized."

The Potions Master ducked as Hermione took a wild swing at him and scowled at her.

"Listen you little hellcat, if you want to get started on your research, you are going to have to learn to handle the creatures you are working with, not take out your frustrations on me!" he said to her. "The samples of the elixir you need are almost ready. If you need to use magic…then use magic damn it."

The Potions Master exited the lab, robes billowing, leaving Hermione by herself.

Hermione sighed. She really shouldn't have done that, but Severus knew how to push her buttons. Well, she'd apologize later.

The pixies were starting to come out of the spell, their limbs jerking spasmodically. Hermione decided to go back to the snake pit and practice catching the snakes again. Severus was right. If she were going to do this, she had to learn how to handle the creatures.

The witch walked into the venom room and grabbed a thick pair of dragonhide gloves. She wasn't taking any chances as she walked back into the snake pit area.

She was going to become proficient at this if it killed her.

Hermione hoped it wouldn't.

* * *

Severus oversaw a few potions classes, allowing Bartholomew to teach while he sat in back of the classroom, scowling. The students were very subdued and seemed afraid to answer Bartholomew's questions in front of the Potions Master, which in turn made the assistant nervous as Severus observed him. He moped at his forehead with a handkerchief several times and was forced to review several topics that the pupils should have done well with.

When class was dismissed, Severus walked up to him, his eyes glittering.

"The students seem to have a problem absorbing your teachings Mr. Trimmings, and I noticed you did not deduct house points for erroneous answers. How do you expect to motivate the students to study when you don't punish them for their laxness?" the wizard asked silkily.

"Professor, I think your presence was the reason for the errors, sir," Bartholomew replied a bit nervously. "They are always a bit flighty when you are present. You…you make them nervous sir."

Severus arched an eyebrow at him.

"So, Mr. Trimmings, you seek to place the blame for your students' stupidity on me rather than accept responsibility for your inept teaching methods and inability to reach their small little minds," the wizard purred.

Bartholomew's blue eyes went hard for a moment.

"Just because I don't browbeat them at every opportunity does not mean my teaching abilities are inept, Professor Snape…I can give you a pensieve of plenty of classes where not only do the students give proper responses, but are eager to do so, almost every hand in the class raised. Unlike you sir, I don't teach through fear. They learn because they are truly interested," Bartholomew said, shivering slightly at standing up to the dark wizard. "I praise them when they are correct, and correct them when they are in error, but I don't punish them. I am not trying to be you, Professor Snape. I have my own methods of teaching…and I am good at it."

Severus' eyes drifted over Bartholomew. So the assistant did have a backbone.

Bartholomew waited for the Professor to jump all over him for his audacity in addressing him in such a manner, but Severus simply said, "Very well, Mr. Trimmings…we will see how effective your "methods of teaching" are at the end of term finals. I expect every single student to pass and I will be creating the final exam, not you."

The assistant blanched satisfactorily, and the Professor returned to his seat to observe the rest of his classes. When the last class was dismissed, Severus left with them, not saying another word to Bartholomew, who immediately set about rifling through the overstuffed file cabinet on the right wall behind his desk, looking for old exams the Professor had given over the years, hoping to get some idea what kind of test the wizard might prepare.

Damn. He had some work to do.

* * *

Hermione didn't show up at supper. Severus sat in his usual spot, forcing Bartholomew to draw up a chair at the end of the table.

The Potions Master ate his meal, a little scowl on his face at Hermione's absence. It appeared the personal neglect had started already. Severus ordered a ham and cheese sandwich to go, with lettuce, tomatoes, sweet pickles and mustard. It appeared on his plate, wrapped in cellophane with two napkins. The wizard picked it up and placed it in his robes pocket.

Severus strode down the dungeon corridor, frowning, Slytherin students scrambling out of his way as he passed. It was safe to speak to the wizard when he wore a neutral expression, but when he looked like this, it was wise to give him a wide berth.

Severus stopped in front of a niche, then entered it, pressing several bricks which folded back, revealing an entrance that led down to the sub-dungeons where the historical documents were kept. He entered a room off the left filled with boxes of parchment, walked to the back wall and press another series of bricks in a more complicated pattern, and the wall once again folded back, revealing a short hallway that led to Hermione's lab. There was light shining from under the door.

Severus pushed the lab door opened and scanned the room. Hermione was no where to be seen. He checked the pixie enclosure for her body, but no…she wasn't in there.

"Oh no," he thought, looking toward the snake pit door. Severus hurriedly pushed it open to find Hermione holding a cobra behind the head with a gloved hand, her hair piled all over her head, smiling but looking thoroughly exhausted. She had been at it for over eight hours.

"Hermione," Severus called to her, striding to her side. He studied the witch, who looked at him with victory in her eyes.

"This is the fifteenth cobra I've caught and held," Hermione said, looking at the serpent as it coiled around her arm. "I can catch them now. Will you show me how to milk them?"

Severus shook his head.

"Not tonight. You've done enough," he said, "Put the snake back, return to your rooms and eat something."

"I want to practice a bit more, Severus," Hermione argued as she wrapped the snake and carefully lowered it back into the pit, releasing it. Most of the snakes were hiding now, having been subjected to Hermione catching and releasing them.

"The cobras appear tired, witch…and so do you. Come along," Severus said, catching her by her arm and pulling her from the room. Hermione dragged her feet but it didn't help as Severus slung her through the door and followed, shutting the door to the snake pit and warding it with his signature.

"I will remove my ward in the morning," he said to her imperiously.

The pixies were all lining the window of their enclosure and jeering at Hermione obviously remembering how they had done her in earlier that day. Hermione scowled at the tiny blue creatures. It wasn't going to be as hard experimenting on them as she thought.

Hermione pulled out her wand and shook it at the pixies threateningly and they all flitted back, frightened looks on their tiny faces. They knew what a wand was thanks to Severus. The pixies disappeared into the foliage, peering out at Hermione with dark looks. She drew the blind down.

"More misplaced aggression," Severus observed, "threatening pixies."

He made a tsking sound.

"Shut up, Severus," Hermione snarled. She was tired, hungry and exasperated. She didn't need Severus' barbs to add to her frustration.

Severus scowled at her, but held back a biting retort.

"Out," he said imperiously, opening the lab door, a no nonsense expression on his face now.

Hermione stormed past him and up the hallway. Severus turned down the torches in the lab and followed her through the wall, into the document area and up the stairs. Presently they emerged, Hermione walking quickly to her rooms and slamming the door in the wizard's face. He rapped on it.

"I have your sandwich. Ham, cheese, pickles, the works," he said against the door, taking it out of his robes pocket. The door opened a crack and Hermione's hand shot out, grabbing the sandwich and quickly withdrawing, slamming the door shut again.

Severus looked at the door for several moments, shrugged, then headed for his own rooms. He knew it would be this way. Well, tomorrow he would show her how to milk the cobras. That ought to make her happy with him again…

For about five minutes.

* * *

Hermione began her study of the completed elixir, painstakingly deconstructing the elements and ingredient and studying their interactions, consulting with Severus from time to time and making painstaking notes.

She also learned to draw venom from the snakes, learning quite quickly how to agitate them enough to bite the venom jar voluntarily. If only the thestrals were more cooperative when it came time to inject them with small amounts of the poison. The thestrals seemed to know Hermione was up to no good the moment she entered the stable. Hagrid had tethered three of them, which he rarely did. They lowered their heads and snorted at Hermione, their apparently sightless eyes focused on her and the hypodermic she held in her gloved hand.

The animals each tried to rear when she entered the enclosure, but they were held tight. The screeching cries were horrible as she injected each flank. The injection itself wasn't that painful, but the animals weren't used to Hermione. Only Hagrid really came in contact with them. Hagrid suggested Hermione come to the stable once or twice a week and hand feed strips of bloody meat to the creatures so they would trust her, and she did so, finding it much easier to extract their blood when the time came to create the anti-venom.

Now that she had it, it was time for the work with the pixies.

* * *

"Eloise, have you…er…showered lately?" Linda Dodge, her married sister asked tentatively.

"Yes. I shower every day. Why? Do I smell?" Eloise asked her, sniffing her armpits. She smelled fine as far as she was concerned.

"Just a little. Maybe you need to wear more deodorant," Linda said, her nose crinkling slightly. "Also you need to pluck your eyebrows. You almost have a uni-brow."

Eloise wanted to tell her sister she'd been plucking and shaving every single day, but her hair would just grow back extremely fast. But Linda was a faultfinder anyway, having a house, a husband and two children. She was a stay at home mom and felt superior to Eloise who lived alone in a rented flat selling candy for a meager living.

"You're never going to find a man if you don't keep on top of things, Eloise," Linda chided.

Eloise scratched her back. She'd been feeling really itchy and irritable lately.

"I don't need a man," Eloise said a bit sharply, "I'm fine the way I am."

"You do need a man. Look what Charles has done for me. I don't want for anything," Linda said.

"You live off Charles. If you were by yourself, you'd be no better off than I am," Eloise said angrily.

"But I was smart. I found someone to provide for me," Linda retorted. "I don't sleep alone in my bed every night, or have to pick up some stray bloke for a shag when I'm randy, risking all kinds of diseases."

Eloise was tempted to remind Linda what a slut she was before she met Charles and went all 'proper" in order to land him. But she didn't.

"I'm fine, Linda," she said stiffly.

After Linda remarked on all the other things that were wrong with her sister, she left, Eloise glad to see her go. She had been feeling strangely for the past three days. Touchy and bad-tempered, ready to snap at everyone, though she restrained herself. And what was worse…she had the feeling she was being watched from the moment she left her flat in the morning until she returned to it at night. Even in the candy shop she kept looking out the window to see if she saw anyone standing about. She never did.

A couple of times she caught a sharp, pungent odor that was a mixture of blood and some animal scent, but again…she saw nothing she could identify, only the occasional movement from the corner of her eye.

This all had the effect of keeping her on edge. She had been raped before after all, and hated the feeling of being stalked. But since she didn't see anyone, there was nothing the woman could do.

* * *

Dusk was falling, and Fenrir stood disillusioned across the street from Eloise's flat, a burlap bag in his large hand. His yellow eyes were focused on the door to the flat. He was going to have to retrieve her soon. The moon was going to rise at ten twenty-four that evening, and the muggle would be experiencing her first transformation. It wouldn't do for it to occur in muggle London. He had to take her to the wizarding world before she transformed to werewolf form.

He had been following the muggle for the past few days, hard put to keep from being discovered. She was extremely alert, turning to look back constantly as he followed her, the werewolf falling to immobility. She might have seen his shimmer, but there was no way she would have associated it with anything other than some anomaly of the weather or an optical illusion. He could tell that she smelled him on occasion as well, stopping and visibly sniffing the air, catching his scent.

As soon as it was dark enough, Fenrir made his way across the street. He pulled out his wand.

"Alohamora," he growled, unlocking the door and entering, heading up the stairs. He stopped before her flat, eyeing the door. Then he knocked, stepping to the side.

Eloise, who had been pacing her flat, unable to relax, started at the knock. She wasn't expecting anyone. She looked out of the peephole but saw no one.

"Who is it?" she called.

There was no response, but she could smell an odor similar to the one she'd been catching from time to time the last three days. She quickly walked to the kitchen, opened the utensil drawer and pulled out a long, sharp knife. If anyone were planning on doing anything to her…it would be costly. Very costly. She walked back to the front door, waiting.

Another knock sounded and she quickly put her eye to the peephole, hoping to see who it was. Again, she saw nothing, but the odor was stronger…more pungent. She let out a little growl, brandishing the knife, still waiting. She quietly unlocked the door.

The knock sounded again, and Eloise threw the door open and ran out into the hallway, knife at the ready as she looked about. She didn't actually see anyone, but noticed a large shimmer about five feet away. She stared at it, her eyes narrowed.

It moved.

Eloise had no idea what this was, but that didn't stop her from going at it, striking down, the odor of blood and animal filling her nostrils. She didn't connect but felt herself grabbed bodily, the knife wrested from her grip. Eloise kicked and bit…someone had her…someone very strong and muscular. It was a man.

She heard only one word, growled in a rasping voice.

"Stupefy!"

Everything went black.

Fenrir disillusioned Eloise and bounded down the stairs, leaving the door to her flat open as he exited into the night. He took several steps, then disapparated. Several youngsters standing on the corner looked in the direction the sound came from.

"What the fuck was that?" one boy said, squinting his eyes as he looked for a car or anything that could have made that noise.

"Probably Fred letting loose," another youngster said, looking at a rather fat, red-haired boy eating some very greasy chips. He licked his thick, glistening lips, his eyes narrowing. He hadn't farted.

"Shut up," he said around a mouthful of food.

Never in their wildest dreams would they have imagined the sound they heard was that of a werewolf escaping with his victim.

Such things only occurred in fairy tales.

* * *

Fenrir reappeared in an open field, bordered by a forest on one side. Before him was a large outcrop of rocks. Fenrir squinted up at the sky, then adjusted the unconscious woman slung over his shoulder then leaped to the top of one of the rocks and began to climb behind them, sliding down to the ground and walking straight through a wall of stone.

This was the cave Fenrir occupied when he wished to have a murder-free transformation. The cave was located far from populated areas and he hunted in the forest instead. When Fenrir felt the bloodlust, he positioned himself near human settlements before the moon rose. The sad thing was, Fenrir was subject to a hunger for human blood even when he wasn't transformed, so was doubly dangerous.

He lit the single torch with a flick of his wand and the cave was illuminated. It was quite small and held nothing but a few small stones and a huge nest made of leaves, strips of cloth, fur and straw. There was nothing here Eloise could use to end her life as she attempted to do in Pumblebrook's mansion.

Fenrir dropped her down into the nest and backed up, pulling his wand and grinning. No doubt the muggle would be furious and try to attack him. He'd let her get a few blows in before he subdued her and told her what was happening to her and why. They had a little time left before the moon rose.

"Enervate!" the werewolf rasped.

Eloise shifted, her brown eyes opening. She was assailed with the scent of animal and blood and sat up quickly, looking down at the stinking nest with disgust, then looking around the cave, her eyes falling on the grinning Fenrir. She leapt to her feet at once.

"Where am I? And who are you?" she demanded, brushing the fur and straw off her clothing while looking around the cave for something to protect herself with.

"I am Fenrir Greyback, your savior," the wizard growled at her, "And soon to be more. You are in my cave."

Cave?

Eloise's lip curled as she looked at the man. He was huge with a beard, gray matted hair, yellow eyes and long fingernails. He was dressed in some kind of black robe that was too tight for his big body. He had a kind of polished stick in one of his large hands, and a burlap sack in the other.

"You let me out of here," Eloise seethed, crouching slightly.

Fenrir's grin broadened as he watched her move into attack mode.

"I can't do that. You are about to transform. You will need feeding," he responded, throwing the burlap sack to the ground in front of her.

Not the smartest thing to do.

Eloise darted forward, grabbing the burlap sack in her hands. It was rather heavy. She began to swing it at Fenrir, hitting him with solid thumps as the werewolf threw up his arms to protect himself.

"You bitch," he smirked, ducking and letting the bag bounce off his big shoulders, "What a temper you have!"

"You let me out of here!" Eloise screamed at him, attempting to run around the wizard and out the cave opening. Fenrir caught her with his arm and flung her back, tearing the burlap sack out of her hands.

Eloise stumbled back and fell on her ass, her hand falling on a stone. Eloise stood up, the stone in her hand and threw it as hard as she could at Fenrir, hitting him in the forehead. The wizard roared with pain as Eloise quickly gathered up more rocks, throwing them at the werewolf as hard and as fast as she could.

"Gods damn it!" Fenrir seethed, slowly making his way forward as Eloise continued to throw rocks at him until she ran out. Then she leaped on him, tearing and biting.

"Good gods, muggle…enough!" Fenrir roared, backhanding Eloise into the wall, stunning the woman. She slid down, her head spinning.

Fenrir attempted to fix his robes as Eloise struggled to get to her feet and continue her attack. Fenrir snarled at her horribly, and she fell still. That was an animal snarl.

"Stay there and listen to what I have to say, muggle," the wizard rasped at her, "Strange things have been happening to you. I can explain them. The pentacle, the hair growth, enhanced senses, a taste for blood. I can tell you why these things are happening to you if you will just stay still and listen!"

Eloise stared at the brute of a man in front of her. How did he know what was happening to her? Why had he brought her here? All right, she'd listen to him, but then she was getting out of here one way or another or would die trying.

"All right, I'm listening," she said, her eyes narrowed.

"About three weeks ago you were kidnapped by wizards to be taken to a revel where you would have been raped and killed," Fenrir began.

"Wizards? Oh shit…you're trying to tell me a fucking fairy tale," Eloise said, standing up and preparing to attack again.

"If you strike me, woman, I will hurt you," Fenrir snarled at her, his eyes narrowed and pointed teeth bared. He looked inhuman and frightening now. Eloise stood there, worried. "Now you listen. This is no fairy tale."

Eloise folded her arms and looked at Fenrir rebelliously, but didn't move. He stopped baring his teeth and continued.

"You escaped your captors and ran into me, and attacked me. Let us just say I liked your fire and claimed you as my own. I brought you to a private room intending on having my way with you, when you tried to kill yourself, and almost succeeded. It seems you preferred death to rape," Fenrir said.

Eloise looked at him incredulously. That really was how she felt…but how did he know?

"You were at the brink of death when I saved you by biting you, passing my gift to you so you would survive," the werewolf breathed, "Then I brought you back to the West End and removed the memory of the incident."

"I don't believe you," Eloise said bravely, but in her heart she knew this tale, however wild it was, was true. It explained her loss of memory and how she ended up in the West End.

Fenrir held up his hand, palm forward. Etched into it was a pentacle encased in a circle.

"You have my mark," the werewolf said, "The mark of the beast."

Eloise looked down at her own palm. Her mark was the mirror image of the wizard's. She looked up at him, her eyes wide now.

"What did you do to me?" she asked him, her voice quavering.

"I saved your life," he replied, "And made you better in the process."

"What…did…you…do to me?" Eloise asked, becoming angrier now as she realized this brute of a man was behind everything that was happening to her.

"You are now a werewolf, or will be as soon as the moon rises," Fenrir said.

"A werewolf?" Eloise said, hysterical laughter bubbling up. The man was insane…first wizards now werewolves. "You're mad."

"You have a lust for blood…raw meat, don't you? And your body hair grows at an alarming rate. You can smell things no one else can, hear things that you shouldn't be hearing…even insects in the walls. You feel stronger than you used to…don't tire as easily. You get angry quickly, more quickly than usual," Fenrir said to her, "That is all because of the changes your body has gone through. Your animal senses are enhanced, as are your reflexes. How do you think you managed to drive off that pack of young muggles the night I returned you to muggle London?"

"You saw that?" she asked him. She didn't see anyone else in the station that night, and hadn't told anyone about the attack.

"I followed you. I needed to know where you lived so I could retrieve you on the night of the full moon. Tonight. You will need to feed. If you had transformed in your flat, no doubt several of your neighbors would be dead come tomorrow morning. Not that I particularly care about their lives, but it would have drawn too much attention. No doubt you would have been shocked and covered in gore when you transformed back to human form and would have been arrested as a serial killer and taken beyond my reach. I couldn't let that happen, Eloise," Fenrir said in a soft growl.

Eloise stared at him. She still couldn't believe this. It made a crazy kind of sense…but a werewolf, wizards? She felt as if the whole world had gone mad.

"Let me out of here," she hissed at him, her hands crooking into claws. Pointed teeth or not, she wasn't staying in this cave a moment longer.

To her surprise, Fenrir picked up the burlap sack and stepped aside.

"Go ahead," he growled, the way to the exit open.

Eloise slowly walked forward, eyeing Fenrir, her hands at the ready, then she zipped by him and out of the cave to find a slew of large rocks in front of it. She began to climb. Fenrir placed his wand in the nest, covered it with straw, then ambled out of the cave after her.

"You can jump, you know," he called up to her as she searched for handholds.

Eloise looked back at him, narrowed eyed. He was actually telling her how to escape him? Fenrir Greyback was strange. But maybe he intended to chase her once she got past the rocks, and this was some kind of game for him. Eloise made it to the top of the rocks and slid down the other side.

She began to run across the open field, trying to put as much distance between herself and the insane man behind her.

Fenrir calmly leaped to the top of the boulders, then to the ground, taking off at an easy lope behind her, letting the muggle see him in pursuit. Eloise did see him, and began to run faster…much faster than she normally ran. She was fairly flying across the field, her hair streaming back as she sprinted.

"How am I running so fast?" she wondered, looking over her shoulder. Fenrir was still chasing her, not falling back or forward, matching her speed, his teeth bared with pleasure.

Suddenly, Eloise cut toward the forest, intending on losing Fenrir in the trees. Fenrir saw this, then poured on the speed to head her off. He drew up alongside her in a matter of seconds, grinning wickedly.

"Where are you going, Eloise?" he growled.

She shot away again, turning from the forest and Fenrir dropped back, looking at the horizon. He could see the glow of the rising moon. It wouldn't be long now.

Eloise continued running, streaking across the landscape faster than humanly possible. If she were in the Olympics, she'd surely win a gold medal. But Fenrir was faster than she was…why wasn't he on her, grabbing her?

Suddenly Eloise's eyes fell on the horizon. A sliver of the rising moon was showing and a pain shot through her body, causing her to gasp…but she kept running, altering her course and heading directly toward the rising moon. Fenrir followed, watching as the muggle began to slow, stumbling slightly as the moon rose higher and higher. Finally she stopped, facing the glowing orb as it fully appeared, illuminated by its monochromatic light.

Eloise wrapped her arms around her body, screaming in pain as Fenrir stopped beside her. She looked at him wildly, her eyes streaked with black veins, her face beginning to pulsate, the bones shifting forward and back.

"What's happening to me?" she cried, her body contorting horribly.

"You are being reborn," Fenrir said, his eyes dispassionate as he observed her pain.

"I'm dying!" she screamed.

"You are receiving new life!" Fenrir responded, "Don't fight it…let it happen!"

Fenrir suddenly transformed, howling at the moon, Eloise looking at him in horror as the pain continued to wash over her. The werewolf turned to her, his ears flicking forward and licked his muzzle. He stood on his hind legs, his furry genitalia showing a pink erection. He whined, his tail wagging as he looked at her. The creature was enormous.

Eloise let out one more heart wrenching scream before her body transformed, her bones lengthening and joints snapping backward, her jaw bone elongating, thrusting forward and becoming a muzzle, her nose becoming black the bridge disappearing as her clothing vanished, her nude body sprouting long gray fur, a tail erupting behind her. Her scream became a howl, echoing through the night as she became a thing of legend.

A werewolf.

Eloise looked at the male beside her and snarled, backing away, showing her teeth and claws, but sniffing at the bag the creature held in his hand-like paw.

Fenrir's tail wagged and he whined at her, shaking the contents of the bag out so they fell on the ground. It was a dismembered goat. Eloise licked her lips, but growled at Fenrir, who backed up, fell to all fours and sat down on his haunches.

Eloise also dropped to all fours and crept forward. She quickly snatched up a hind leg and withdrew several feet, devouring the meat hungrily, fur and all, her teeth cracking on the bones.

Fenrir watched her, panting with excitement. When she was full, she would try to flee him…but wouldn't get far.

There would be a bit of a fight, but after he cowed her, he would mate with her.

Eloise Hedgeberry would be his.

* * *

A/N: After almost ODing on red bull, I finally finished the chapter. I hope you found it interesting reading as I still feel a little buzzed and out of synch. Sigh. 


	6. Part 6

**A Song for Severus Part 6**

Eloise woke up the next morning sore, achy and not knowing where she was. Disoriented, she tried to move but found she couldn't. It was because Fenrir had one huge arm draped across her body. They were lying together in his filthy next. Eloise was fully dressed but felt violated. She tried to lift his arm and slip out from under Fenrir's huge limb. How had she gotten back here? The last thing she remembered was being in horrible pain and Fenrir…Fenrir…

Suddenly she pushed at the wizard's arm hard, and Fenrir woke, pulling her tight against his body and sniffing her hair, growling low in his throat as she turned toward him. The werewolf had several deep scratches on his face.

"What am I doing here? Let me go!" she screamed at him, trying to get her arms free. Gods, she stuck of animal…her clothing was reeking.

"Ah, more foreplay?" Fenrir grinned at her with his pointed teeth, his yellow eyes narrowing slightly, "You were quite wild last night, Eloise. And quite satisfying. I have never enjoyed subduing a bitch so much."

Last night? Did he rape her last night? No wonder she felt as she did…but she had no recollection of it.

"You monster!" Eloise screeched at him, getting one hand free and trying to slap his face, "You raped me without my knowledge!"

Fenrir winced as she scratched her nails over the scratches already embedded in his face. He caught her hand and rolled over so Eloise was pinned by his body. His hot, meaty breath poured over her as he spoke and she wished she could stop breathing.

"I did not rape you, muggle. I mated with you…there is a difference," he said to her.

"Not to me. I didn't give you permission," she snarled at him, "I'm going to kill you for what you did!"

"You submitted to me. Accepted my strength. Just as all bitches do when they accept a male," he rasped at her.

"Stop calling me bitch!" Eloise yelled at him, starting to struggle again but to no avail.

"All female werewolves are bitches," he replied, "and you are the bitchiest bitch I have ever run across. If we had a pack, you would be the Alpha female, paws down."

There was a bit of admiration in Fenrir's voice. Eloise didn't give a flying fuck. But she remembered running, becoming wracked with horrible spasms and his transformation, if she wasn't hallucinating from the pain she was in. After he turned into a werewolf everything fuzzed out. Eloise had no recollection at all about what else occurred.

"You don't remember last night. You will not begin to remember your transformations until you have embraced them, accepted your lot. There is a fool named Remus Lupin who has been a werewolf for many years, but he is weak and sickly because he will not hunt either animals or humans, and fights his transformations every month, so has no memory of what he does when transformed. If the idiot would accept his gift, he would be better off. His human side and werewolf side would blend, not reject each other as they do now," Fenrir said, shaking his matted head. "It is important that you accept what you have become, Eloise."

"I will never accept it! Never!" she hissed at him.

"Then…you will die. You have no magical elixirs in the muggle world as Lupin does. Your body will war against itself. You will become ill. There is a muggle disease named after the symptoms you will suffer. It is called Lupus, though it is not a werewolf malady. Very painful," he said, "You will suffer as if your body is constantly on fire."

"I can't believe you did this to me," Eloise said despairingly, slumping now.

How could she live as a wereworlf?

Fenrir traced the scars on his face with one large, dirty hand.

"If it is any consolation, you were able to do this to me in your werewolf form your first night. Your first night. The scars won't heal for some time. You have no idea what it means to be able to do this to me, Eloise. I believe you are so strong because there is deep hatred in you that you hide, but in your bitch form, you are free to let it out," the werewolf said.

Hatred? She certainly felt hatred…but it wasn't deep inside her…it was close to the surface and bubbling over.

"Let me up," she yelled at Fenrir, who suddenly rolled over and did as she asked.

Eloise sprang to her feet and looked down at Fenrir, who stared up at her.

"I suppose you mean to keep me here now," she said to him hatefully, "Now that you have turned me into this…this thing."

Fenrir shook his shaggy head.

"No, I do not. I have matters to attend to," he replied, "I took you only because of your first transformation and to mate with you. You will not transform again until the next full moon. I can't dogsit you until then, bitch," he said to her.

Eloise stared at him.

"So what does that mean exactly?" she asked him, still rankled at being called bitch.

Fenrir slowly rose to his feet, towering over the woman. She was getting used to his scent now and Eloise's nose only partially crinkled. Hell, she smelled as wild as he did.

"That means I will be returning you to muggle London," the werewolf said, "Where you will remain until your next transformation. I will retrieve you again…if I am able."

Eloise looked at him. Fenrir had to come back for her? Well, she wouldn't be so easy to take this time. There had to be ways to kill a werewolf. She would find out what they were and be ready for him. She decided to play nice…for now. Revenge could come later.

"If I do not come…I suggest you remove yourself far away from human population, unless you feel yourself ready to feast on a few neighbors and friends," Fenrir said, "Because you will, I assure you. Werewolves hunger for human flesh. And if you do not kill them, your bite will pass the gift on."

"This is no fucking gift," Eloise said, already forgetting to play nice. "Now, I want to go home."

_"And figure out how to kill you for this,"_ she thought.

"Fine," Fenrir said, striding past her and out of the cave. He waited for Eloise to follow then with one bound, leapt to the top of the boulder, Eloise staring at him with her mouth open.

"You can do this too," he growled down at her, "Just focus and jump."

Eloise looked at him as if he were insane. That was more than a fifteen-foot leap. There was no way she could do that.

"I can't do that," she yelled up at him.

"Climb then," Fenrir snarled, displeased. He disappeared down the other side of the rocks.

Eloise blinked up at the boulders then tried to climb up. She found she couldn't get a grip. Last night, she had the added impetus of escaping Fenrir to help her, but today she was on her own. She tried several more times.

"Hurry up!" Fenrir called to her impatiently. He needed to see Rosier today. The bitch was holding him up.

"I can't climb up!" Eloise said.

Fenrir grinned wickedly. There was more than one way to teach a bitch new tricks.

"Well, then I guess you'll just stay there until the next full moon," he called back, trotting away slowly, laughing so she could hear his voice fading.

"You come back here!" Eloise screamed furiously, "Come get me! You brought me here!"

"Goodbye, Eloise!" Fenrir rasped a distance away now. He had every intention of leaving her trapped there for a couple of days. She'd be more appreciative when he showed back up.

"I'm going to skin him after I kill him," Eloise seethed, her hands on her hips as she looked up toward the top of the rocks. Suddenly she backed up and jumped, swinging her hands forward.

Eloise really didn't believe she'd reach the top, but she did. She stood on top of the rock in amazement for about five seconds, then her eyes narrowed as she saw Fenrir in the distance. The bastard really had left her. Well, she had to catch him. He was her only way back to London.

Eloise took a deep breath and jumped down, expecting to hurt her legs from the impact, but landed in a neat little crouch. She couldn't help but be impressed. She looked after Fenrir and let out a little angry snarl that startled her. Dear gods…she was snarling like an animal.

She took off after Fenrir, covering the ground quickly, catching up to the werewolf in less than a minute when he appeared to be more than a quarter of a mile away. She tackled him around the legs, both of them going down, Fenrir falling straight forward as Eloise swung at him with very powerful blows, beating him around the back of the head.

With a roar he rolled over and slung Eloise away roughly, the muggle tumbling head over heels in the grass several times.

"Enough of this!" he snarled at her, "I appreciate your fire more when I wish to mate. Desist muggle, or you will have a few marks of your own. I won't tell you again!"

Fenrir's teeth were bared, and his forehead horribly wrinkled, giving him an inhuman appearance again. Eloise rose to her feet and brushed herself off. Fenrir looked like he meant business and Eloise looked properly cowed. Slowly the wizard lowered his lip, the wrinkles disappearing from his brow.

"Come. We must go," he said, pulling out his wand and casting a silencing spell around himself.

Eloise hesitated and Fenrir snarled something, his yellow eyes glinting dangerously, but she couldn't hear him. Yet, by the way he looked she knew he wanted her now. Eloise walked up to the werewolf, who wrapped his arms around her and disapparated.

* * *

A jewel loupe to her eye and her hair tied back in a ponytail, Hermione carefully dissected her fifth dead pixie of the day. She had taken to stunning the lot of them, then taking two or three out, placing them in a covered cage, then catching one by the wings and forcing a dropper of carefully measured elixir into its mouth. Male pixies were about six inches tall, and the females about five inches. Physically, they were put together much like humans, except they had wings and their bones were hollow, like birds.

So far, not one pixie had survived the transformation, the creatures' little bodies contorting horrible, skin bubbling, tiny screeches filling the lab as they died horribly, bent and stiff, their skin hardened and purpled. Closer examination showed their organs had practically cooked, and Hermione kept adjusting the amount of elixir she gave each pixie, hoping to find the proper dosage to turn it into a tiny reproduction of Voldemort.

Hermione had been at it for a week now and hadn't spent any private time with Severus at all. The Potions Master took it stoically. Hermione had quite a bad temper when she was working and hated to be interrupted or disturbed no matter the reason. When he walked into the lab, Hermione sighed exaggeratedly.

"Good afternoon to you too," the Potions Master quipped, collecting two bottles of elixir.

Hermione scowled.

"What are you doing? I need those," Hermione seethed at him.

Severus arched an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid you don't need them as much as I do, witch. I go to see Bellatrix tomorrow and it would be a dire meeting indeed if I didn't have the elixir with me," he said silkily. "I am placing these in my private quarters so I won't have to disturb you tomorrow before I leave," he said, putting the two bottles in his right robes pocket and walking toward the lab door.

Hermione stared after him. Severus was going to see Bellatrix tomorrow. She swallowed.

"Um Severus?" she called to him.

The wizard stopped by the door and turned back to face her.

"Yes, Hermione?" he purred at her, an eyebrow arched. He knew what was coming.

"Would you mind terribly if I stopped by your rooms tonight?" she asked him.

Severus leveled his dark eyes on him.

"Are you coming to browbeat and abuse me as you have been doing for the past week?" he asked her, his lips quirking slightly.

"You might be a little abused," she replied, "but it won't be because I am angry."

"Really? Well, in that case witch…you may stop in for a minute or two before I retire," he replied, "I'm usually in bed by nine-thirty and do not wish to break my newfound pattern."

Severus was letting her know that he had taken to going to bed early because he was alone. Hermione didn't miss the implications of this.

"I won't break your 'pattern,'" Hermione said to him, her brows furrowing slightly.

"See that you don't," Severus responded snarkily, opening the lab door and billowing through.

The Potions Master wasn't trying to make this easy. Hermione had neglected him for close to two weeks, and now she felt guilty and uneasy because he was leaving on a dangerous mission tomorrow. If not for that, the witch would retire to her rooms as she had been doing. This was going to be a 'guilt' shag.

Severus smirked as he walked up the stairs that led to the niche and dungeon corridor. As far as he was concerned, any opportunity was an opportunity. He intended to work Hermione like a difficult job. Who knew the next time he would get any? And if something went wrong with his meeting with Bella, it might be the last bit of trim he got in his life.

With that possibility in mind, Severus let himself into his office, walked through his classroom and to his potions stores. He unwarded it and entered, finding what he was looking for on the bottom shelf. He held up the small, blue bottle, reading the label.

Stamina potion.

He placed it in his left robes pocket

The Potions Master was quite virile, and had no problem lasting sexually…but he wanted to make sure he was in top form. If this was indeed to be the last time he was with Hermione, he wanted to leave her with good memories of their last night together.

Severus wanted to be sure she would never, ever forget him.

When the Potions Master exited the lab, Hermione hurriedly placed a stasis spell on the pixie she was studying, cleaned up her workspace and headed for her rooms. She didn't feel in top form. Severus had been good in making sure she ate properly, and escorted her from the labs at a reasonable hour every night, but mentally, she was taxing herself and that had a physical response as far as the body was concerned.

But Severus was going to face Bella tomorrow, and there was no way of knowing what would happen. Hermione was afraid for him but there was nothing she could do to change what would happen. All she could do was cherish her time with the Potions Master tonight and make it good for him.

She knew Severus was the kind of wizard who could handle almost every situation he found himself it. He was smart as well as brave. More than likely he would come through this meeting brilliantly. But she couldn't help but have her doubts. As she walked up the staircase, she guiltily realized it was a little more than that. Severus had been with Bellatrix LeStrange sexually before, and despite his statement that she was nothing special, Bella was a beautiful, sexual witch who wouldn't hesitate to use her feminine charms to sway a wizard her way.

Severus was disciplined, but he was still a man. Hermione felt threatened by Bella, afraid that she would…

Hermione shook the thought from her head. No, Severus cared about her very much. Bella was insane and dangerous. The Potions Master would never engage her.

Hermione let herself into her rooms and walked through the bedroom into the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. She looked awful. Her hair was in its customary rat's nest, her skin was sallow and looked as if it hadn't seen soap for weeks, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

"How can Severus even find me attractive like this?" she asked herself with a sigh.

Well, she'd fix herself up as best she could.

She opened her medicinal stores and checked the contents. Yes, there was replenishing potion. That should help. Hermione shifted through the bottles, hoping there was some stamina potion left, but she had finished her last bottle this morning.

Setting the replenishing potion on the sink, she walked over to the sunken tub and turned on the jasmine-scented spigot. The scent of jasmine filled the bathroom as the tub filled with foamy warm water. She disrobed, added the replenishing potion to the tub, retrieved her washcloth, shampoo and conditioner from a shelf, then pulled out two towels from the rack and placed them on the closed loo.

Hermione stepped into the tub and lowered herself into the warm, sudsy water with a sigh. It felt heavenly. She dipped her washcloth in the water, wrung it out a bit and placed it over her face, leaning back against the tub, allowing herself to soak and the replenishing potion to take effect.

An hour later, Hermione stood in front of the Potions office. She wore her robes and was disillusioned to avoid any speculation on the part of anyone who could be passing. But it was after curfew. All the Slytherins were in their house. Severus didn't take kindly to them wandering the dungeon corridors after hours, particularly since Hermione moved to Hogwarts.

Hermione pulled out her wand and removed the ward on the door, opened it and entered. She replaced the ward, removed the disillusionment spell, then made her way through Severus' dimly lit office. He had a single candle burning on his desk. Normally, it would be dark. The sunken eyes of the pickled dead things on the shelves behind his desk seemed to follow Hermione as she walked through, giving the witch the shudders. Why did Severus have to keep such horrible things in plain view?

"It lends…atmosphere," he told her once, smirking at his horrid little officemates as Hermione made a disgusted face.

Hermione pulled on a torch several different ways and the wall slid up to show Severus' study in total darkness. Not even the fireplace was lit. Hermione lit the tip of her wand and held it up as the wall closed behind her.

"Severus? Severus, I'm here," Hermione called into the silence.

Suddenly light flared up, Hermione jumping a bit as candles glowed with a soft light…they filled the study. Severus appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, his dark eyes resting on her. He was dressed in black silk pajamas and barefoot, his hair tied back in a ponytail. His shirt was open.

"So I see," he said silkily, walking toward her slowly.

Hermione swallowed a bit as he approached. He moved so fluidly and silently. Severus stopped about a foot from her, looking down at the witch with a sober expression.

"You can extinguish your wand," he said, eyeing the glowing tip.

Embarrassed, Hermione breathed "Nox," and the glow ceased. She self-consciously put her wand into her robes pocket and looked up at the wizard a bit nervously. She had treated him so badly this week. As if he meant nothing to her. She owed him an apology.

Severus studied Hermione. It was obvious she made an effort to be appealing to him. But the witch always appealed to him, whether she was working ceaselessly on a project or giving him the time he needed. He was glad Hermione was able to focus on things other than him, otherwise she would become clingy and tiresome. There was nothing worse than a person who had no interests of her own and tried to live for someone else rather than herself.

"You look nervous," he said softly, "Have we been apart so long you have forgotten me?"

Hermione shook her head.

"No…I just think I owe you an apology for…" she began. Severus held up his hand to stop her and shook his head, taking a step closer to her.

"There will be no useless apologies or silly expressions of guilt in these rooms," he said in a soft, commanding voice, "As such, I don't expect you to spend precious moments in unnecessary chatter concerning your treatment of me these past few days."

Hermione stared at him. This sounded very similar to his initial Potions speech Severus gave his new students at the beginning of every new school year. He smirked at her and continued, leaning slightly now."

"However, tonight I possess the predisposition to bewitch your mind and ensnare your senses. I intend to show you tonight how to bow to desire, become a slave to passion, and even make you catch…your…breath…"

Severus kissed Hermione tenderly, drawing her against him and invading her mouth teasingly, seductively, easing a response from the witch.

Gods, he felt so good.

Hermione melted into the kiss, returning it hungrily as the familiar fire ignited within her, washing over her body and making her quake. The Potions Master loved how Hermione's desire for him showed so plainly, her trembling body causing him to swell against her in reaction. He was just as weak as the witch was at times like this. Sometimes his need for Hermione was near frightening.

Severus pulled away from her mouth, his dark eyes full of hunger as Hermione breathed in sharply, catching her breath as she stared up at him, licking her lips.

"Tonight we will not talk of elixirs, pixies, Bellatrix or missions, Hermione. Tonight there will be only the two of us in my bed, sharing pleasure and finding solace in one another," he breathed, taking Hermione's hand and leading her into his bedroom. Hermione nearly floated along behind him, completely under the wizard's spell.

What happened between them the past few days meant nothing now…nothing at all. The irritated snapping, the occasional threat of hexing, the constant door slamming and fits of temper were all meaningless. The only thing that mattered was the current situation, the present, the here and now. The moments of neglect would occur and fade, but times like this between Hermione Granger and Severus Snape…were eternal.

Severus stopped and turned to Hermione, his eyes resting on her robes.

"Do you or don't you?" he mused.

Hermione's brow furrowed.

"Do I or don't I what?" she asked him.

Severus smirked.

"Do you or don't you have anything on under these robes? Have you gone for the demure or flagrant approach?" he asked her.

Hermione gave the wizard a rather naughty smile.

"Guess," she said teasingly.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her, clasped his hands behind his back and walked around her consideringly, Hermione standing ramrod straight, a slight smile on her face as the Potions Master examined how her robes fell.

He stopped in front of Hermione, looking thoughtful.

"I believe," he said slowly, "This requires a hands-on examination."

Severus gently moved Hermione's hair aside and placed both his hands on her throat, the witch's head tilting back at the contact, her eyes going half-lidded as he slowly slid his hands down her neck and over her shoulders. He stopped, smirking at her.

"The flagrant approach," he purred, then began to unfasten her robes, Hermione watching his hands as if hypnotized, beginning to quake again.

"I'll ease your trembling in a moment, witch," Severus breathed, causing Hermione to look up at him.

Severus kissed Hermione and continued unfastening her robes, gently pulling them open. He was correct.

She was naked under them.

The Potions Master slid her robes down her arms, letting them fall into a crumpled pile on the floor, then lifted her against him, kissing her hungrily as he walked toward the four-poster, Hermione's arms locking around his neck, moaning softly against his lips.

He stopped and looked at her half-lidded gaze.

"Yes, Hermione," he breathed, setting her down on the bed and stepping back, pulling off his black silk shirt, his chest rising and falling quickly as Hermione climbed into the bed and lay on her back, looking at him sloe-eyed.

Severus' eyes drifted down Hermione's body, over her full breasts, tight belly, flared hips, curling patch of chestnut hair and thick thighs. His pajama bottoms tented enormously and quickly, the rush of blood almost making him dizzy

"You're enough to drive me mad," he said to Hermione thickly, lust stealing away some of his voice's silkiness.

In one smooth move he lowered his pajama bottoms and stepped out of them, kicking them away, Hermione's eyes now resting on his lean, pale body. His erection was enormous, his pale member fully engorged and pointed at her as if some swollen compass needle and she were True North.

Severus climbed into the bed and rolled on top of Hermione, her soft body a welcome cushion beneath him. He hesitated for a moment, willing himself to regain his composure and not plow into the witch as if she were a snowbank. He wanted to take time with her tonight.

"You are almost too desirable for your own good, Hermione Granger," he breathed down at her.

"Like you can talk, Severus Snape," she purred back at him, her eyes glowing with desire as she felt his erection resting against her belly, hot and pulsing, "If I don't feel you inside me soon, I'm going to explode."

Hermione rolled her hips, making the wizard scowl as she moved enticingly beneath him.

"Stop it, you little succubus," he hissed, fighting the urge to forego the foreplay and sheathe himself deep between Hermione's moist thighs. "I don't want a rushed, heated encounter. I want to take time with you."

Now, what Severus considered "taking time," Hermione considered "torture." She had the impatience of youth, while the Potions Master, although he was often quite appreciative of Hermione's drive, enjoyed taking things slow and savoring the witch, lingering over her body, kissing, tasting and exploring her flesh; feeling her react to his touch, hearing her vocal responses to his ministrations. Having a witch of his own had not yet lost its novelty and he felt it a blessing every time he took Hermione.

Severus was a sensual wizard who preferred to immerse all his senses in the sex act…possessing Hermione involved more than finding a soft, warm place to stick his tool. Rushed and heated was reserved for those times he returned from a long mission and needed her body's comfort and acceptance as a balm.

"I like rushed and heated," Hermione replied huskily, rolling her hips again.

Severus let out a growl of exasperation and pressed down on Hermione full weight to stop her gyrations.

"We're going to do what I like," he said, covering her mouth with his and letting his hands sweep up and down the sides of her body.

Hermione purred like a kitten as his hands moved over her, gasping as he moved from her mouth to her throat, sucking, licking and kissing, his lank hair dragging over her flesh as the wizard moved purposely lower. Severus rose to his knees so he could caress her breasts, the dark nipples hardening between his palms, studying Hermione's face as she closed her eyes and gave herself over to him, his hands smoothing over the contours of her body, which arched up helplessly for more contact.

He lowered his warm mouth to the tip of one breast and suckled her as he massaged and fondled the other, then switched several times, the witch gasping and moaning, her pelvis thrusting upward, the familiar scent of her arousal making the wizard's mouth water. He moved upward and kissed her again, both hands on her breasts now, scouring Hermione's hot mouth with his tongue, tasting her hunger and her need. He broke the kiss, his dark eyes meeting hers. Already her hair was sticking to her face.

"Beautiful," he breathed down at her before sliding his body lower in the bed and kissing his way down between her breasts and over her belly, feeling her hands running over his shoulders and through his hair as he moved toward her core.

"Yes…Severus, oh gods…yes," Hermione breathed down at him as his lips nibbled at her pubic hair.

She loved oral sex. The Potions Master seemed to know exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it. The first time he performed the intimate act, Hermione had almost flown out of the bed, horrified he had put his mouth down there. Severus had to calm her, stroking her hair and caressing her until the witch recovered.

"Every part of you is beautiful, Hermione and worthy of worship," he said to her softly, "I am completely enamored of you, the way you feel, sound, smell and taste. Don't deny me. You will find it pleasurable, I promise you."

Hermione had given in, and after her initial ticklishness, found the feel of his tongue and lips amazing. She came as if she'd sprung a leak, and the sex afterwards was phenomenal and satisfying. Now he was going to the source again.

Severus lowered himself to Hermione's core, his nostrils flaring as he lifted her thighs and held them apart, the tip of her swollen nub visible between her labia. He pushed her thighs wider, reacting to the pink inner flesh of her core like a bull to the color red.

"Dear gods," he groaned, diving in, tasting her sweetness, drinking her down as Hermione hit several high notes.

Severus nibbled, licked, nipped and delved as if there were a banquet between the witch's thighs. He held her tightly as she tried to buck against his mouth, already at the edge and crying out for release. He suckled Hermione's button teasingly, then inserted two fingers into her moist sleeve, wriggling them slightly as he gently thrust them in and out of her. Hermione keened, her body stiffening. Severus quickly removed his hand and locked his mouth to her softness and pressed his tongue inside her as Hermione let out a shriek, tightening around his supple muscle, her hot flow pouring over it.

Severus lapped and sucked her fluids in as if dying of thirst, making small, sexy sounds of pleasure as he swallowed her ambrosia down, his eyes closed in bliss as she gyrated against his face. He didn't let a drop escape him, and cleaned her thoroughly as she returned to earth, sighing, the rolling of her hips slowing as her hand combed through his lank locks. Severus licked her inner thighs a few times more, then pulled himself up, kissing the witch with a satisfied sigh.

"I could drink at your fountain forever," he said to her softly.

Hermione gave him a crooked smile before closing her eyes, her breasts still rising and falling as her panting eased.

Severus rolled to the side and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Hermione, throbbing, ready for the next stage of their night. He wanted to give her a little time to recover. Suddenly he felt Hermione's small hand encircle his girth.

"What's good for the witch…" she began.

Severus didn't need to hear any more. He rolled to his back, Hermione still holding on to his swollen member.

"Is good for the wizard," he finished for her, his eyes hot as she shifted closer, kissing his mouth lightly then working her way down his pale body.

Hermione slowly worked her way down Severus' body, loving his shudders as she moved her lips over his skin, his abdominal muscles contracting jerkily as she gently kissed and sucked him. This was the only time Hermione felt that the Potions Master surrendered completely to her, when she took over his body. He was never forceful when Hermione blew him this way…unless she asked him to be. For the most part, the wizard relinquished control to the witch and was appreciative of her attentions.

Severus lay on his back, biting his lower lip, dark eyes closed and his hands clenching and unclenching the bed sheets as the witch's soft mouth worked down his body. He swallowed several times as Hermione kissed his belly, jerking slightly with pleasure as she moved lower. There were not many time the Potions Master gave up control, but when Hermione pleasured him in this manner, he gave himself over to the witch, caught up in her passion for him. To Severus, having Hermione wrap her warm mouth around his organ voluntarily was the ultimate expression of her desire for him.

Certainly, he had blowjobs before, but had just felt them part of the sex act or a way to dominate a witch, fisting her hair and aggressively driving into her mouth until she gagged. It was an act of lust, of submission…not passion. Submission wasn't what he felt emanating from Hermione when she chose to treat him in such a manner. He felt her love. Tonight was not the kind of night that called for domination or role-play, but for realness, for sharing and experiencing each other. Right now, Hermione was the one in control. All Severus could do was feel her…love her for loving him so much, though he hadn't told her he felt that way.

But he felt she knew. She had to.

The wizard's back arched and he let out a deep feral groan as Hermione soft wet mouth closed over him, sucking gently. Hermione smiled a little around him as she felt his body flex. Not only was she in control, but she had the power.

She moved her hair aside so Severus could watch her, then turned that power on. Bella would have some hard competition to deal with if she wanted to try to turn the head of Hermione's wizard. She began to kiss and lick Severus from head to base, the wizard moaning, then his mouth dropping open as he watched her make love to his stiff organ.

"Hermione," Severus groaned, reaching up to adjust the pillow under his head so he could watch her without straining his neck. He grabbed Hermione's pillow too for more leverage.

Hermione stopped her ministrations for a moment, looking up at Severus. The wizard looked as if the whole world had stopped spinning the moment she took her mouth away from him.

"Talk to me, Severus," she purred, returning to his shaft, sliding her mouth over the head and down his shaft, sucking hard so the wizard buckled, hissing.

Severus knew Hermione was teasing him. This was her little reversal game so she could talk dirty to him. The witch knew he couldn't talk when she made him feel like this. She wanted him to question her, so she could say the naughty things she had in mind.

"What do you want me to say, witch?" he gasped at her as Hermione wrapped both hands around his organ and caressed it while her mouth continued to slide over him.

Severus threw his head back and arched helplessly, then hissed as Hermione stopped again.

"I want you to tell me how much you love me doing this," she breathed up at him, "Tell me you like me to suck your big, strong wand."

Severus let out a little sound but it wasn't anything like she wanted to hear from him. Hermione smiled. That meant she was doing her job. She returned to the fray with renewed vigor. The Potions Master was putty in her hands, mouth…or whatever else she decided to use on him. Breasts were effective. Once she had even used her feet. Things got a bit freaky after that. Her toes felt sticky for a day and a half at least.

Severus did his best to tell her what she wanted to hear, but his words came out rather garbled as Hermione sucked his nads into her mouth.

Hermione thought she heard the bed sheet tear, pulled away from the wizard and grinned, shifting her body so her breasts rested on Severus' loins and she rested his shaft between them and pushed her soft, firm flesh around it.

"Succubus," Severus hissed and began thrusting, his dark eyes hot as he slid between her full breasts. Hermione tilted her chin downward so the wizard slid into her mouth on the upstroke and sucked hard as he fell back.

"Gaaaaah!" the wizard gurgled, pushing himself up almost to a sitting position, resting on his hands as he continued thrusting, groaning as Hermione pleasured him with her breasts and mouth. He slid between her globes easily, leaking and oiling her skin until it glistened.

Hermione had the wizard now, she knew it for certain when she felt one of his hands fall to the back of her head…he was lost now and close to coming. Hermione pulled her body back, releasing his slick organ from between her breasts and applied her hands and mouth to him, using her tongue as well to move the soft skin back and forth over the iron beneath, Severus muttering her name, gasping, his silken voice washing over her. Gods, he sounded even sexier like this…if it were possible.

Hermione was dripping wet, and moaned when Severus' fingers found her core.

He wasn't going over alone, and the wizard manipulated her mercilessly as she brought him closer to climax, Hermione pressing back against his hand and sucking him as if she were trying to swallow him whole.

Suddenly Severus stiffened, one hand reflexively pushing her head down, the other hand slipping two fingers inside her and working them as he howled, releasing powerfully, his seed streaming through his tensed, straining body as he shot jet after jet into Hermione's soft, hot mouth. She drank every bit of his climax as if dying of thirst…drawing closer and closer to her own pinnacle of bliss as the wizard continued to thrust inside her.

Hermione soon let out a howl herself, the Potions Master's fingers having found their mark, making her orgasm.

Severus fell back panting, his hand wet with the witch's release, and Hermione sprawled over him, resting her head against his chest, listening to the wizard's pounding heart as he tried to recover. His dry hand rested on Hermione's back, caressing her gently, his eyes closed and nostrils flared.

After a minute or two, he spoke.

"You are a wicked little witch," Severus breathed, pulling Hermione up so he could kiss her and tuck her into the crook of his arm. His hand was resting just below her breasts, and Hermione could smell her release on it.

"You smell like sex," she replied, grinning slightly.

"Do I?" he said, sounding surprised and bringing his hand to his mouth.

Severus sucked every bit of wetness off his digits, then looked thoughtful.

"I taste like it too," he commented, then gave her a big, wet kiss, sharing her flavor as Hermione struggled against him.

"Arrrgh! Severus!" she scolded when he released her.

The wizard arched an eyebrow at her.

"Now don't act like you haven't tasted that before," he teased her, smirking.

Hermione tried her best to look angry, but Severus wasn't fooled a bit.

"Sharing fluids is all a part of intimacy, witch," he said, tightening his hold on her and closing his eyes with satisfaction, "If you don't get messy…then you're not doing it right."

Hermione choked back a laugh. Severus was incorrigible.

Severus let out a little yawn.

"I believe I need a bit of a nap," he said, opening his eyes and looking at her sidewise, "Do I need to ward the door so you don't sneak back to your lab while I rest?"

Hermione looked at him, the knowledge of what he was going to face tomorrow flooding back to her.

"No. I won't leave you," she said softly.

"Good," he said, pulling her closer and closing his eyes again, "I won't be asleep for long, I assure you. We have unfinished business witch."

Hermione snuggled into him.

She didn't care if Severus slept for the rest of the night, as long as she was with him.

Severus' eyes were closed, but he didn't fall directly to sleep. He knew Hermione was worried about him and what would happen tomorrow. He wasn't worried. It was more he was on point. When Severus walked into dangerous situations, it was as if every sense was enhanced. One could say he could feel danger before it struck and prepared himself to face it. He would be useful to Bella. As mad as she was, she wouldn't destroy her only ally…if Voltaire lived that is…

If he died?

Well, Severus would cross that drawbridge when and if he came to it.

Severus pulled Hermione closer and kissed her forehead. The witch sighed. She had been drifting off too.

"Severus?" Hermione said sleepily.

"Sssh. Get your rest. You're going to need it," he growled.

That was enough thinking about tomorrow. Tonight was the here and now. He had a witch in his arms that loved him.

For the time being, that was all that mattered.

* * *

Hermione was awakened by a sudden weight. The witch woke up to find Severus on top on her, his black eyes glittering down on her soberly. It took her a moment to realize she had been scourgified.

"Wakey, wakey," the wizard purred, pressing the tip of his erection between her thighs slightly.

He was definitely ready to go.

"Couldn't you at least wait for me to join you?" she asked the wizard, frowning up at him.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her and smirked.

"I did wait," he said, lowering his mouth to hers tenderly, then sudden thrusting forward with a grunt. He slid deep inside her body, hitting bottom lightly

"Oh shit! Severus," Hermione cried out against his lips, her eyes rolling back with pleasure as he penetrated her.

He pulled away from her mouth and stared down at her, his eyes hot.

"That's my name, witch…and I love to hear you say it when I'm buried deep inside you," he said softly, then pulled back and thrust into her with a little more power, "Say it again. When I leave here tomorrow evening I want the memory of my name on your lips to take with me."

"Oh Severus," Hermione said, her eyes wet with emotion as she looked up at him.

Severus studied her face for a long moment, then his dark eyes softened.

"There will never be any other witch for me other than you, Hermione Granger," he breathed, kissing her deeply, then raising himself up on his hands and slowly beginning to take her, his eyes taking in every reaction, every arch and bounce of her body beneath his as he took her.

"Never…never…never…" he groaned with each stroke as Hermione's arms locked around his neck, using her grip to partially pull herself up to meet his lips without breaking his rhythm.

Severus was tender, but thorough as he buried himself in the witch, trying his best to express all of his passion and emotion for her physically while prolonging her pleasure and his own.

As he took Hermione, her voice washing over him…the wizard felt blessed to have such a passionate, intelligent and challenging woman for his own. He fell to the side, holding her close, not breaking contact, kissing and caressing Hermione as if memorizing her taste and the curves of her body as he flexed into her. After several minutes, Hermione rolled on top of him, taking over, riding Severus like a hippogriff into the home stretch, her nails digging into his shoulders as she put it to the hissing, groaning wizard.

Severus gripped her waist, holding Hermione as if she would fly away if he released her, his mouth slack with pleasure, eyes fluttering as her softness slid over him, sucking, squeezing and coating him with her juices as her thighs slapped against his loins. Hermione's hair was wild around her face and shoulders. The wizard reached up and brushed it back so he could see her expression. Her face was contorted with desire, hunger…and yes…love.

"You really do love me, don't you Hermione?" he asked her, grimacing as she wound her hips, twisting him inside her.

"Yesssssss," she hissed down at him, "With everything I have, everything I am, Severus."

Severus groaned, then suddenly flipped the witch, his heart pounding against his rib cage as he trapped her knees over his arms and drove into her body frantically, possessively, pouring out everything he couldn't say to her in a flurry of raw passion.

"You will always be mine….mine…mine," he claimed as Hermione cried out under him.

He dropped on her, releasing her legs and digging his toes into the bed, trying to immerse himself in her sweetness and her love as best he could. Hermione Granger was his anchor to the world, the only person, the only hope that kept him from falling entirely to despair.

How had he ever lived without her?

The lovers' two bodies flowed and flexed as one entity, flesh slippery with sweat and effort as they moved against each other, melding, blending, undulating, each riding the crest of the other, Hermione the doorway to bliss, Severus the key bent on unlocking her treasure.

Clutching each other, their voices rising in ecstasy, the couple drew closer and closer to that perfect union true lovers seek, bodies and mouths locked in the age old dance of life, of passion…of love.

Hermione was the first to pitch over, her nails digging into the Potions Master's back and leaving thin, bloody streaks as she orgasmed with a screech, locking her legs around his waist.

Severus hissed as Hermione's heat clutched and spasmed around him, the pain of her scratches pulling him back for a moment, but only a moment as he stared down at her, watching her climax. The unfocused look of bliss in the witch's eyes catapulted him to his own strong release and Severus let out a roar as he slammed into her, his eyes rolling up into his head as he came, touching the deepest part of her body as he hoped he touched the deepest part of her heart.

Severus let out little grunts of pleasure as he fired jet after jet into the quaking witch below him, his face buried in hair, his arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. Oh gods…how good she was…how good they were together. He could stand a lifetime of this…an eternity of this.

Severus and Hermione lay entwined for several minutes, hearts pounding, reluctant to break apart, to disengage their bodies and become separate beings again. But separation was evitable…which was why their coming together meant so much.  
Hermione shifted, Severus slowly rolling off her and on to his back, sighing as his deflated organ slid from her body.

Hermione turned her face toward him.

"I love you, Severus Snape," she said to him softly.

Severus studied her.

"I know, Hermione Granger," he replied, his voice a bit hoarse, "I know."

* * *

The next day, Hermione couldn't concentrate on her work. Severus' upcoming meeting with Bella was weighing heavily on her mind. Bitten several times by the pixies she was working with because of her distraction, the witch finally gave up, putting the irate little creatures back in the enclosure and trying to concentrate on her notations instead.

She sat at the counter for a little while, trying to focus but ended up pacing back and forth for the rest of the morning. This was how Severus found her when he came to the lab during lunch. He entered quietly, Hermione not seeing him. He stood by the door and watched her walk back and forth for a while, shaking her head, her eyes glistening.

"Oh Severus," Hermione sighed into the silence, "I'm so afraid for you."

"Are you, witch?" Severus replied, walking forward.

Hermione spun and looked at him. How long had he been there? It didn't matter. Last night they didn't talk about this at all, and Hermione needed to get it out before he left.

"Yes," she said, a single tear falling from her eye and coursing down her cheek.

Severus pulled out his wand, warded the lab door, then repocketed it, walked up to Hermione and pulled her against him tenderly, embracing her, resting his chin on top of her head.

"I will be fine, Hermione. I have been in far more dangerous situations than this," he said softly as the witch sobbed against him, all her fear pouring out of her.

"But I never knew what you were facing, Severus. Now I do, and it scares me to death," Hermione said, her voice quavering.

Severus sighed.

"I tried to protect you from this, Hermione, but you were determined to know what I was doing for the Order. Now, you are going to have to deal with that knowledge. Crying won't help the situation. You need to be strong," he said, drawing her away from his body and looking down at her, his dark eyes somber. "Tell me witch, is it better knowing or not knowing?"

Hermione sniffed.

"It's better knowing, Severus…but, gods…right now it doesn't seem like it," she replied.

"So in hindsight, are you saying 'Ignorance is bliss?'" he asked her.

No. Ignorance had not been bliss for Hermione. She wondered and worried over the wizard every time he disappeared, thinking the worst. She looked up at him.

"I never thought I'd say this, Severus…but in this case if ignorance is bliss, then knowledge is misery," Hermione said softly.

"Knowledge is misery," the wizard repeated thoughtfully, "No…I would have never dreamed I'd hear those words from you, Hermione, considering acquiring knowledge is your life's work."

As he looked down on her, Severus really could see the misery in Hermione's eyes. He didn't want to leave her feeling this way if he could help it.

"Why don't we have lunch in my rooms?" he suggested, "It will give us a bit of time together before I go."

Hermione nodded.

"Lunch sounds good. I can't work anyway," she said, looking about the lab helplessly, then back at him.

"Then lunch it is," he replied with a smirk.

Severus released Hermione so she could put away her notes and straighten the lab, his black eyes resting on her. He was trying to decide whether or not he should make love to her once more before he left. The question was, if he did so…would it reassure Hermione or make her even more miserable?

Severus escorted Hermione up the stairs and into the dungeon corridor. Several of his Slytherins were passing and greeted their Head of house, looking quite curious as he walked with Hermione to his Potions office, let her in then entered behind her.

"Severus…your students saw us," Hermione said to him.

"Yes. They do have eyes," he replied, opening the wall to his study.

"But…but they might think something is going on," Hermione said to him, surprised the wizard seemed to be throwing caution to the wind.

"They are students, Hermione. You are a fellow staff member. For all they know we are in my office discussing Hogwarts business," he said, placing his hand on the small of her back and walking her into his study.

"Besides," Severus purred at her, "All we are doing is having lunch together. Innocent enough, don't you think?"

Hermione looked at him speculatively.

"There is nothing remotely innocent about you, Severus," Hermione replied as he arched an eyebrow in response.

"E tu, Hermione?" he said to her as he pulled out his wand and transfigured the sofa into a wooden table with two chairs. The wizard let out an exaggerated sigh. "Must I always be guilty of something?"

Hermione let out an unsympathetic snort as Severus pulled out a chair for her. She sat down..

"You're a Slytherin, Severus. Slytherins are always guilty of something, though what is rarely ever found out," she said with a small smile.

Severus couldn't say anything to refute her statement. Any Slytherin worth his salt had quite a few deceptions under his belt. It was required. Instead he walked over to the floo, took some powder off the mantle and tossed it in.

"The kitchen," he said.

The flames turned green and immediately a squeaky voice responded.

"What can we gets for you, Professor?"

It was one of the house elves from the kitchen.

Severus looked at Hermione for a moment.

"Tomato soup, two green salads with oil and vinegar, two pieces of baked chicken, potato salad and two pumpkin juices," he said.

"It will be ready shortly, sir," the house elf squeaked.

The flames turned red again and Severus joined Hermione at the table. He ordered the soup and salad for her because he knew the witch wouldn't be able to eat much. She never did when she was worried.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Hermione looking down at her hands. She could feel the wizard's eyes resting on her. She could always feel his eyes.

"I'm…I'm not going back to the lab today," she said quietly, "I can't seem to focus and can't afford to make any mistakes. The pixies had a hey-day with me."

"I see," Severus replied, "So what do you plan to do with the rest of your day?"

Hermione looked up at him.

"I'd like to spend it with you," she said softly.

Just then, two house elves winked in with their lunch, set the plates, utensils, napkins and glasses on the table, bowed, then winked out. Severus stood up and slid Hermione's soup, salad and pumpkin juice in front of her, then sat back down and began to eat, not addressing what she said about spending the rest of the day with him.

Hermione picked at her food as Severus ate heartily. He finished his food, wiped his mouth and sighed appreciatively. Hermione finished her soup, but did little to the salad. She pushed it away, then looked up at Severus.

Severus stood up.

"I'll be right back," he said, exiting the study, Hermione looking after him.

The wizard went directly to his potions stores, unwarded it and picked out a bottle. He put it in his pocket, rewarded his stores and returned to the study. He looked at Hermione.

"Come with me," he said, offering his hand.

Hermione rose and took it, and Severus walked her into his bedroom. He sat down on the edge of his bed and patted it so Hermione sat down next to him.

"How do you want to spend the afternoon with me, witch?" he asked her.

Hermione looked at him. She would like to spend the afternoon finding comfort in intimacy…but then, Severus would be tired when he met with Bella…possibly not in top form. It would be too selfish of her to send him out that way though she could tell he was willing to accommodate her if that was what she needed.

"You should rest up," she said softly, "I'd just like to be with you until you leave, Severus."

The Potions Master nodded, then stood up, took the bottle out of his pocket and set it on the nightstand, then began unfastening his robes, intending on stripping down to his boxers. He slid them off his arms, tossed them on the chair against the far wall, then started on his shirt, Hermione looking up at the silent wizard and swallowing.

"Don't," she said suddenly.

Severus stopped opening his shirt.

"Don't undress, Severus. I don't think I'll be able to just sleep if you do," Hermione said, "I want you to be well-rested when you meet Bella."

The wizard smirked at her.

"Am I that irresistible, Hermione?" he asked her.

"Yes," she replied, her eyes glistening.

Severus actually smiled at her. He didn't smile often and when he did it made him look so much younger.

"Well, when I return from meeting with Bella, witch…you will show me how irresistible I am," he purred, helping her up and unbuttoning her robes. He really did feel like taking the witch to the mattress, but she was right. He needed to be well-rested.

He removed Hermione's robes and tossed them to the chair as well. He then picked up the bottle on the dresser and uncorked it. He held it out to her.

"I want you to drink this, Hermione…it is a calming draught. It will help you rest," he said softly, "I will be in a better state of mind when I meet Bella if I know you aren't here climbing the walls with worry."

Hermione wanted to protest, but the look in the wizard's eyes made her take the bottle and drink its contents down. She made a sour little face.

"Can't you ever brew anything that tastes good?" she asked him as he took the bottle back, put it on the nightstand and helped her into his bed.

"Yes. Tea and coffee," Severus replied, climbing in behind her.

He lay down on his back and slipped his arm under Hermione and pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her temple for a moment. Hermione turned partially to face him, embracing him, her arm curved over his chest, her face resting against the wizard's throat. Severus could feel her warm breath on his neck as he stared up at the ceiling and waited for the calming draught to take effect. It would put her to sleep, a deep restful sleep.

She wouldn't wake when he left.

* * *

Severus hid himself near the place where the stones kissed, disillusioned and watching for Bella. The sun was low in the sky and hidden behind clouds. Two bottles of elixir rested in his robes pockets, and he held his wand tightly in his hand, his black eyes sharp for any movement

Presently Bella arrived, apparating in under a silencing spell and removing it. The witch looked around for a moment, then said in a low voice, "You are here, Severus…I can feel you. Come out!"

Severus approached stealthily, and got behind her, keeping his disillusionment spell on. When he was close, he removed the spell, his wand trained on her. Bella spun and her gray eyes narrowed.

"Must you always have your wand on me when you approach?" she asked him with a frown.

"Yes," Severus replied, "At least until I see where your wand is."

"It's in my pocket, damn it!" Bella hissed at him, "I am not about to hex you when you have such important work to do, Severus. I can't give Voltaire the elixir. I need you."

Severus put his wand away.

"That you do, Bella…but it doesn't hurt to be cautious with you," he replied evenly.

"Do you have the elixir?" she asked him eagerly, disregarding his statement concerning her trustworthiness.

"Yes. Two bottles as you asked," Severus said.

"Good. Give me your arm so we can go," she said, holding out her arm, drawing her wand and casting the silencing spell again. "And if you've placed a tracking charm on yourself, you can forget about it working. When we apparate your signature will be scattered far and wide. You will be untraceable."

"I have no tracking spell on me, Bella. I am entering into our agreement without tricks. I only hope you are doing the same," Severus said, his nose wrinkling slightly.

"This is far too important for treachery, Severus. There is a kingdom at stake," the witch hissed, looping her arm in the wizard's, "We go!"

They disapparated.

* * *

Voltaire was waiting for Bella in the arena. He sat on a throne of bones, almost an exact replica of Voldemort's own. Bella had instructed him carefully about how he was to address the wizard, and to act like royalty.

She had also promised him that if he made a good impression, he could finally have her. Bella had provided him the pensieves as she had promised and Voltaire viewed them constantly, his lust for the witch growing as much as his hatred that his father had her in such an intimate manner. Bella had done things in the pensieve that made his stomach clench uncomfortably, but excitedly. And she would do those things to him, and let him do things to her. He was very ready to explore his sexuality with the witch.

Voltaire wasn't sure he could strike her as his father did, but she seemed to like it, screaming, "Yes, my Lord! Yes! Yes!" If she wanted him to do it, however, he would…and with just as much brutality as Voldemort.

Suddenly Bella appeared with a tall, pale wizard with a huge nose and lank dark hair. She removed the silencing spell around them and they walked toward the throne. Voltaire straightened and tried to look as imposing as possible.

Severus looked around the large arena, noticing the rock face all around them. Apparently Bella's stronghold was underground. His black eyes focused on the young wizard sitting in the throne before him. He looked very much like his father, bald, scaly and crimson-eyed. He still had his ears, nose and lips however.

Severus and Bella stopped in front of the throne.

"Severus Snape, meet Voltaire Riddle, the next Dark Lord," she said to the wizard proudly.

Severus studied the boy, then said, "Hello Voltaire."

Voltaire scowled at him.

"How dare you address me so familiarly!" the boy snarled, his eyes narrowing, "You will show me proper respect. Bow before you speak to me, and call me Lord! You will be my servant…so act like it!"

Voltaire's eyes shifted to Bella for a moment, and she nodded slightly, giving him a slight smile.

Severus pursed his lips. Voltaire was an arrogant young pup. For now, he would humor him, however. He gave a little bow.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lord," he said silkily.

"That's much better. Don't forget yourself…or you will feel my wrath," the boy said imperiously.

"Yes my Lord," Severus replied evenly.

Albus and Hermione were going to have a hell of a time rehabilitating this piece of work.

"Good. Now that you have shown me the proper respect, it is time for you to serve me. Give me the elixir," Voltaire demanded.

Severus fought back a smirk. He was going to enjoy the boy's suffering immensely.

"I will, my Lord, as soon as Bellatrix provides me with a strong chair and manacles with which to restrain you," the Potions Master purred, one eyebrow arching at the young wizard, who swallowed nervously.

"Restrain me? Why?" the boy asked, looking at Bella now.

"It's just a precaution, Voltaire," Bella reassured him, "To protect you."

"Protect me from what?" Voltaire asked, his voice cracking slightly. No one had told him he would have to be restrained and helpless.

"Breaking your own bones," Severus replied, "It will be quite…painful. However, I am sure that a wizard as ready as you are to rule will be able to handle the agony quite well, my Lord."

Voltaire looked at him and sensed Severus' sarcasm. He frowned blackly and stood up, holding himself as straight as possible.

"Of course I will," he declared, "I am the true Dark Lord. I can take anything!"

He stalked down the stairs.

"Create the chair, Aunt Bella," he said to the witch, authority in his voice.

Pleased, Bella did as he asked, a solid wooden chair appearing before him with padded manacles attached to the arms and legs, and a head restraint attached to the back of it.

Without hesitation, Voltaire put his wand in his pocket, walked over to the chair and sat down in it, his jaw tight with determination.

He would show this wizard what he was made of. If his father could take the transformation, so could he.

Across the arena, a disillusioned Volaria watched as her half-brother was securely strapped into the chair. She watched Severus curiously. He was very pale and tall, with greasy black hair. But he didn't show any fear of Bella or Voltaire. Whoever he was, he was brave.

Volaria wanted to get closer. Suddenly, she transformed into her animagus form, and flying low to the ground, moved closer, still disillusioned.

No one noticed when she landed on the Potions Master's robes.

Severus asked Bella for a parchment and quill, then made a big production of examining Voltaire, scratching nonsensical symbols out as he did so. Bella glanced at them, impressed. She had no idea what the Potions Master was doing, but it looked quite complicated.

Voltaire sat unmoving, his jaw still slightly clenched with determination as the wizard poked and prodded him. The boy was afraid, but he refused to show his fear. He had to prove to Severus and to Bella that he was worthy to rule.

Severus proceeded to jot down more symbols, study what he'd written, then handed the parchment and quill to Bella, who turned it every which way in a vain attempt to understand even one iota of the symbols.

Severus pulled the elixir out of his pocket and uncorked the bottle. He looked at Voltaire. The boy's wrists and ankles were manacled in place, and a head restraint circled his forehead. A chin strap dangled. The Potions Master would lock it in place after he administered the potion so Voltaire wouldn't bite his tongue off.

"Are you ready, my Lord?" Severus purred at the young wizard, his black eyes glinting as Bella looked on excitedly.

"Of course I'm ready. Give it here!" Voltaire demanded, showing off his bravado for Bella.

"Very well. Drink this entire bottle," Severus said, holding the mouth of the bottle to Voltaire's lips and tilting it slowly, watching him swallow.

To his credit, as terrible as the potion tasted, Voltaire did not make a face or gag as he drank it down. He finished the potion, looking up at Severus disdainfully as the wizard quickly strapped his jaw in place, Voltaire's mouth tightly closed. He stepped back.

"What happens now?" Bella asked the Potions Master.

Suddenly, Voltaire began shuddering violently.

"That," Severus replied as the boy's eyes rolled up into his head. Grunts of pain issued from him as he seizured violently, jerking in his restraints. He would have been screaming except his mouth was locked closed. His flesh began to bubble slightly as he arched upward, some foam appearing on his lips.

Bella looked on, mesmerized…unconcerned for Voltaire's pain. Her only concern was his survival. His suffering was necessary.

Severus watched grimly as blood suddenly poured from Voltaire's nose.

"What is happening!" Bella shouted at the Potions Master, "Why is he bleeding?"

"It is part of the transformation process," Severus said to her without emotion as blood poured down the front of Voltaire's robes, pooling in his lap.

"He's bleeding to death!" Bella screamed, grabbing the Potions Master's arm.

"He's not. His blood is being replaced…changed. Just watch, Bella," Severus replied, jerking his arm away from her.

Volaria, still in her mosquito form watched horrified as what seemed like gallons of blood poured from Voltaire, who had fallen still and was deathly pale, the crimson liquid soaking into his robes.

Presently there was a change in the blood. It darkened until it became almost black in color, then the bleeding slowed and finally stopped. Voltaire sat still as death.

Bella stared at him.

"Severus…is he…dead?" she asked the Potions Master, a note of hysteria in her voice.

Suddenly Voltaire's eyes opened. The irises of his eyes were completely red now. Then he stiffened, and began convulsing again, his skin seeming to writhe around his skull, his features twisting grotesquely as he tried to scream, but couldn't. The cartilage of his nose was painfully torn away and absorbed into his body, leaving him with two snake-like slits for nostrils. His fingernails blackened and began to lengthen, black blood dripping from them as they expanded.

He fell still again.

"Is it over?" Bella whispered to Severus, looking at the blood still dripping from beneath Voltaire's sharp nails.

"No. He still has a ways to go," Severus replied.

And Voltaire did. A full four hours passed before the physical transformation was completed and the boy sat panting in the chair, his eyes whirling wildly, lipless, earless and covering in flesh colored scales.

Volaria thought he was the most hideous person she had ever seen, but Bella stared at him enraptured. Yes…yes. This WAS the Dark Lord, reborn.

"You're beautiful, Voltaire, even more beautiful than your father was," she said to the boy, whose eyes stopped moving and rested on her. The tip of a flat forked tongue appeared between his lipless mouth for a moment, and Bella nearly fainted with delight.

Severus looked on the scene with distaste. Beautiful? Voltaire looked like a hornless demon, just as his father did.

"Well, he survived. There will be some residual pain and trembling, but nothing life-threatening. You may give him pain potion…but not healing potion. Healing potion will kill him. It will try to restore his former self, and his body will destroy itself. Now that he has survived the transformation, he will have to take this elixir once a month for the rest of his life," Severus informed Bella.

"But his powers? When will his powers manifest?" Bella demanded as Severus released Voltaire from his restraints.

"In about three days there will be a noticeable increase in powers. He must exercise them to strengthen them. How powerful he becomes will depend on how hard he works. He has the potential to be many times more powerful than Voldemort," Severus lied.

"But…the competition…will he be strong enough to thwart it?" Bella asked.

Severus looked at her.

"That will depend on him, Bella. The competition is due to start within the month. Voldemort showed greater power than any normal wizard within two weeks of transforming, but worked very hard at it. If Voltaire applies himself, he should be able to face off with any Death Eater…I trust you have tended to his dueling skills?" he asked her.

"Of course…with live subjects too," she said, "He is quite good. With his added power he should be a match for any of those fools, if he even competes. We may pull a coup and claim the throne," Bella said, her eyes narrowing.

She and Voltaire could appear at the competition, wands blazing. The Death Eaters would be shocked at Voltaire's appearance, and most likely that shock would give them the advantage. Most would not dare fire on the likeness of Voldemort for fear of reprisals. In fact, Voltaire looked so much like Voldemort, they might believe he had been resurrected. Bella looked at Severus, her eyes narrowing.

"Can we count on your help should we claim what rightfully belongs to us, Severus?" she asked him.

"I will not interfere," he responded, "That is the best I can offer you, Bella. But I will continue to administer the elixir."

Bella had hoped the wizard would agree to fight by their side, but Severus was a Slytherin after all, and would look after himself first. That was fine. Voltaire would punish him for his laxness when he came into power, and punish him soundly.

She'd make sure of it.

The witch approached Voltaire and smoothed her hand over his scaly head, drawing it around over his ear hole, then over his lipless mouth. She leaned in and kissed him.

"You've done well, Voltaire," she said huskily, "Now you must recover, then you will receive your reward."

"Yes, Aunt Bella," Voltaire lisped, his words sounding odd and his tongue feeling strange. It would, considering he had a snake's tongue now. He felt weak and dizzy. A sharp pain shot through him, and he gasped, his eyes glazing slightly.

"Jordan!" Bella called loudly.

Severus turned to see a wizard hurrying across the arena accompanied by two house elves. Who was this?

Jordan stopped and stared at Severus for a moment, his eyes first shocked, then somewhat pleading. He held out his hand.

"My name is Jor…" he began, then buckled, screaming with pain as Bella crucio'd him.

Jordan fell to the ground, but the witch didn't keep her wand on him long.

"He has no need to know your name. Take Voltaire and care for him. Be sure not to give him any healing potions. It will kill him, and then I will kill you!"

Jordan crawled to his knees, then stood up, his eyes on the ground.

"Yes, Mistress," he said, slowly walking over to Voltaire and with the help of the house elves, lifted him from the chair and helped him back to his rooms. The healer didn't look at Severus again.

Severus' brows were raised as he watched the wizard go.

"An employee of yours?" he asked the witch.

Bella gave an evil smirk.

"Jordan has been with me a very long time. He is more than an employee…a fixture actually," she replied.

Severus had no doubt the wizard was a prisoner, but said nothing else about him. He was anxious to leave now and report to Albus.

Volaria clung to Severus' robes, ready to make her escape back to her rooms before Bella discovered her missing…

The witch hesitated.

Missing?

Volaria realized that she could go missing permanently if she just stayed where she was. The wizard was leaving the stronghold, and no one knew she was attached to him. Once she was free, she could start a new life. Now that Voltaire had transformed, she had no doubt he would kill her and that Bella would not do anything to stop him.

Well, she wasn't going to go out like that. If they wanted to kill her, they'd have to find her first. The wizard Severus seemed brave. Maybe he would help her…hide her away someplace if she begged him to.

Volaria barely heard the final conversation between Bella and Severus, she was so caught up in her own thoughts. She was scared to death…but this was a chance for freedom. She might never have another one.

Bella clasped Severus' arm and disapparated, Volaria clinging to the wizard's robes with all six legs.

* * *

Severus apparated back to his private rooms and quickly walked into his bedroom. Hermione was still there, asleep. As he looked at her, he decided he could fill the Headmaster in the next morning.

The Potions Master removed his robes, boots and socks, then climbed into the bed with his wand. He pointed it at Hermione.

"Enervate," he said softly, quickly placing his wand on the nightstand.

Hermione drew in a deep breath, and her eyes fluttered. She yawned, stretched then looked at Severus in surprise.

"Severus, you're still here? What time is it?" she asked him sleepily.

"No, I'm back. I've already met with Bella and the boy.

Hermione sat up.

"What? What do you mean you already met with her?" she asked him, frowning.

"You slept through it," Severus said with a smirk.

Hermione scowled at him, then grabbing her pillow, brought it down on his head hard.

"You drugged me!" she shouted at him as Severus scrambled from the bed, grabbing his own pillow. Hermione climbed out after him, pillow swinging.

"How dare you do that to me!" she shrieked at him as she attacked.

Severus held up his pillow to block her blow.

"It was easier on both of us that you slept through it," he argued as Hermione aimed low, hitting his legs.

Hermione feinted, and Severus dropped his pillow low to block contact and she whomped him upside the head good and hard. The wizard scowled and swung his pillow at her, connecting just as hard.

Hermione staggered back.

"Ooh, you…you…" she seethed. Suddenly, she stopped talking, her face going slack and her pillow falling to the floor.

Severus looked at her.

"Hermione…what's wrong?" he asked her.

Hermione pointed over to his robes. Severus turned and dropped his own pillow

There, standing by the chair his robes were on, was a young witch with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was smiling at them. Volaria had never seen a pillow fight before and it looked fun.

Severus grabbed his wand off the nightstand and pointed it at the witch, moving Hermione behind him. She didn't look very dangerous, but how the hell had she gotten in here? She wasn't a Hogwarts student…not dressed in crimson robes.

"Who are you?" Severus demanded, "And what are you doing in my rooms? Speak quick, girl, or you'll find yourself hexed."

"My name is Volaria Riddle. I escaped from Aunt Bella. I turned into a mosquito and rode on your robes to get here. Please help me. I don't want to go back. Voltaire will kill me," she said plaintively.

Severus slowly lowered his wand.

Volaria Riddle? Oh good gods.

Voldemort not only had a son, but a daughter.

Hermione walked forward.

"You're Tom Riddle's daughter?" she asked the pretty young witch.

Volaria nodded.

"But I'm not like him. I'm not like any of them," she said, her eyes glistening. "I don't know anyone out here. I don't know what to do…where to go? Will you help me?"

The witch began to cry and Hermione's bleeding heart once again made an appearance, Severus' eyes rolling toward the ceiling as Hermione walked forward and embraced the sobbing witch.

"Help you? Of course we'll help you," Hermione said soothingly, rubbing Volaria's back gently. They were the same size.

"Thank you! Oh, thank you!" Volaria sobbed, tightening her hold on Hermione.

"Oh good grindelows," Severus thought as the witches clutched each other.

So much for finding out how irresistible he was to Hermione. No doubt they'd be in Albus' office all night long. With a sigh he walked past the two witches, put on his robes and headed for the study.

Hermione looked after him.

"Where are you going, Severus?" Hermione called after him.

He looked at her.

"To inform Albus Hogwarts has a Riddle on the premises," the Potions Master said, scowling, "No doubt he will be delighted."

Hermione smiled at Volaria, and wiped away her tears with her thumb as Severus disappeared through the bedroom door.

"Albus Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts…and he will be delighted to see you," the witch said reassuringly.

But how many others at Hogwarts would feel that way? Voldemort's daughter at the school? She most likely would become an instant target. She would have to be protected.

Severus appeared in the doorway again.

"Come on you two," he growled, clearly agitated, "The Headmaster wants to see us immediately."

Hermione and Volaria followed Severus into the study and stopped in front of the fireplace. Volaria looked at the flames with wide eyes.

"I've never seen green fire before," she said.

"It's green because you can walk through it to another place. In this case, the Headmaster's office," Hermione explained as Severus stood behind them with his arms folded.

"Really? How does it work?" Volaria asked curiously.

Hermione launched into a little monologue of the history of floos and floo powder as Severus glowered behind them.

Finally, exasperated, Severus shoved both witches through the floo, stating "Less talk, more walk!" then billowed through behind them.

Gods, what a mess.

* * *

**_A/N: Fun chapter to write. So Volaria's at Hogwarts. Knowing Albus, he's going to add her to the student body. :) Anyway, thanks for reading._**


	7. Part 7

**A Song for Severus Part 7**

Albus, Hermione and Severus listened as Volaria Riddle told them the story of her life under the power and tutelage of Bellatrix LeStrange.

Hermione listened with horror etched on her face as Volaria described the way the witch tried to teach her to be brutal and uncaring about life by killing small animals and house elves.

"I didn't want to do it, to do any of it," Volaria said, "Aunt Bella wasn't pleased with me and focused all her energy on Voltaire. Voltaire would do anything for Aunt Bella. Even kill," the witch said.

Severus studied the young witch closely. She could be a plant by Bella.

An examination by Albus proved the witch had no idea of her parentage other than Voldemort being her father, nor did she know where the stronghold was. She had never been out of it until today. But the way she escaped showed she was resourceful.

Albus studied her for a moment, then looked at Severus who had a scowl on his face.

"What do you think we should do, Severus?" the Headmaster asked him.

"Lock her up," the Potions Master replied as Volaria's eyes widened.

"No! Why?" Hermione said.

"Because she could be a plant…that's why. Sent here to infiltrate us in some manner," the dark wizard said.

"No! No. I ran away. I wasn't sent here. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to live a normal life..." Volaria said, rising from her chair now and looking around the room wildly. She wouldn't let them lock her away.

"Calm down, Miss Riddle," Albus said soothingly as Hermione glowered at Severus, who had his arms folded, his black eyes dispassionate, "I have no intentions on locking you away, but I do need to divine your purpose. Please approach my Phoenix Fawkes."

Albus gestured toward the beautiful red bird resting on a perch. Fawkes rolled his eyes at the witch, and trilled encouragingly. Volaria walked toward him slowly.

"Oh, he's beautiful," she said softly.

Fawkes bobbed his head several times at the compliment as the witch stopped in front of him. The bird studied her closely, staring into her blue eyes with his golden ones, then let out a squawk and bobbed his head at the Headmaster, who smiled brightly.

"She has no evil intentions, Severus. She is just a young witch seeking sanctuary," the Headmaster said as Severus continued to scowl, "And she shall have it."

Volaria petted Fawkes' crested head.

"Thank you, Fawkes," she said to the Phoenix who trilled a beautiful little song at her that made the witch feel warm and safe. She turned and walked back to her seat and sat down again.

"Bellatrix is going to be livid," Severus said, frowning at Volaria, "She's not stupid. She's going to know that somehow the witch left with me. What am I supposed to tell her?"

"The truth," Albus said, "Albeit a slightly altered one. Tell her that you didn't know who the girl was when you found her in your rooms and she wouldn't tell you, so you brought her to me as you would do any student in our school. Only then did you discover who she was, and it was too late. I had already taken her under my wing."

Severus studied the Headmaster. Perhaps that would work, particularly since Bella had not told him of Volaria's existence. How was he to know the daughter of Voldemort was clinging to his robes in animagus form when he left the stronghold? Besides, the witch might initially be angry, but she had Voltaire to think of. No doubt her focus would be on the boy. According to the story Volaria told them, she was practically a non-entity anyway.

"That might work," the wizard said, still eyeing the Riddle girl. "But what to do with her? It can't become common knowledge that the daughter of Voldemort is at Hogwarts. She will become an immediate target for some and an object of worship by others. Neither which is a feasible option."

Albus tapped his chin for a moment as he studied Volaria.

"She has her mother's features, whoever the poor witch was," Albus said. He had no doubt Bellatrix killed her immediately after Volaria's birth, "I think in this instance we will have to create another identity and background for the witch, much like we would do when hiding marked wizards and witches in the past. She looks very little like Tom, except in facial shape. Instead of Volaria Riddle, how about…Volaria Ruddle?"

Hermione looked at Volaria, who looked very pleased with this idea.

"I like it," she said, smiling.

Who would have thought people could be so kind? She didn't know what to expect when she left the stronghold, but it appeared the fates were on her side. Then her face darkened.

"What if Aunt Bella comes after me?" she asked the Headmaster.

"Bellatrix LeStrange wouldn't dare come to Hogwarts," Hermione assured her, a black look on her face. "If she did, she'd never leave."

Hermione spoke with such venom, that Severus looked at her in surprise. Then he gave a bit of a smirk. It seemed as if someone hadn't gotten over a little tryst that happened decades ago.

This seemed to reassure Volaria.

"We will need to have her sorted first," Albus said, rising and turning to pick the Sorting Hat up off the shelf. It immediately became animated.

"What do we have here?" the hat said, bending its tip toward Volaria, "Ah, a new student. I feel great power. Place me on her head."

Severus stiffened. Great power?

The young witch rose and Albus walked from around his desk and placed the old hat on Volaria's blonde head. The hat sat there a moment.

"Quite powerful. This one has strong magic…and a lust for the acquisition of knowledge, and a desire to prove herself. Very independent…and very intelligent. There is a twinge of darkness, but not too much…directed towards self-preservation rather than conquest. She will protect herself but has a deep respect for life. She has courage, but it is tempered with logic. No hot-headed acts from this witch. She will weigh everything. She would best be placed in Ravenclaw," the hat said firmly.

Albus removed the hat from Volaria's head and replaced it on the shelf.

Severus stared at the witch.

"She will have to be tested to see her level of magical knowledge," he said.

"That's not a problem Severus. Hogwarts' has several evaluation tests for just that purpose. I just need someone to administer them…" the Headmaster began, cutting his twinkling blue eyes at Hermione.

"I'll do it!" Hermione gushed, nearly bouncing in her seat. Volaria smiled at her.

Severus was reminded of Hermione as a student, bouncing in her seat and wildly waving her hand to be called on to answer a question. It was annoying then and annoying now.

"In addition, we will have to come up with documentation for her…a dummied birth certificate to be filed at the Ministry. We really don't want them involved with this however…they are as leaky as a sieve," the Headmaster said darkly, "No doubt Kingsley and Tonks can handle placing the proper paperwork in the proper places."

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks were both Aurors and loyal members of the Order of the Phoenix. They had done such things before.

"I believe we will have to use the "Orphan" scenario to protect her. I will contact the Headmistress of the Little Flower Orphanage, Brumhilda Huffle. She will take care of everything," Albus said. Brumhilda was also an Order member from way back.

"Her wand will have to be registered," Severus said, looking at the witch.

"But I don't have a wand," Volaria said, looking at the pale wizard, then at Albus and Hermione.

"No wand?" Hermione asked, amazed, "Didn't Bella give you a wand?"

"I never needed one," Volaria said simply.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"Demonstrate a spell for us," the Potions Master said, "Make a quill from the Headmaster's desk fly to you."

Volaria looked at the Headmaster's desk and saw a number of quills resting in a tall cup. She crooked a finger at it, thought "Accio quill" and a quill flew out of the container, landing neatly in her hand.

"Wandless," Hermione breathed, "And non-verbal. Amazing."

Severus thought it a good thing that Volaria had no designs on becoming a despot. Wandless magic would have aided her immensely in that respect. Unfortunately, witches and wizards who could do wandless magic had to be registered with the Ministry just as Animagi were, which Volaria also was.

Severus and Albus looked at each other as the witch walked over and put the quill back in the cup then returned to her seat.

"Kingsley and Tonks," they both said, turning their eyes on Volaria. Legitimizing this young witch would require quite a bit of covert legal manipulation. But it had been done before.

It would be done again.

"Now, where will we keep her until we have everything in place?" Albus asked.

Severus groaned inwardly. He was already having a hard enough time getting sex from Hermione.

"In my rooms," Hermione volunteered, just as the Potions Master knew she would. He scowled but didn't say anything. There was nothing to say.

Bleeding heart Hermione had struck again.

* * *

"Where is she?" Bellatrix LeStrange screeched at the cluster of house elves that stood trembling inside the arena. Two elves lay dead on the ground before them, their insides splattered all over the stone floor.

"I want to know where Volaria is!" Bellatrix screamed at the terrified creatures, who clutched each other in fear, their ears flattened.

They were too scared to respond. Bella had killed the two elves because they answered her in the negative.

Bellatrix forced herself to calm. She couldn't kill all of them, or she would have no servants. She had searched all over the compound and there was no sign of the young witch, no signature either. Somehow, she had gotten away. She stared at the elves.

"All right. I need answers now. I will not kill any more of you, but you must share Volaria's secrets with me…I demand it. I am your mistress above any other. Do any of you have an idea how she may have escaped the stronghold? Does it have a weakness I don't know about? Tell me…or you will all be crucio'd," the witch said.

The elves all trembled in fright, then, slowly one brown elf moved out of the crowd, shaking all over, his green eyes turned toward the ground.

"The Miss was an animagus, Mistress," the elf said, its squeaky voice quavering, "I thinks she may have left with the wizard."

Bellatrix's eyes widened. Volaria was an animagus and didn't tell her? Why, the conniving little bitch!

"What kind of creature was she?" the witch asked the elf, trembling with rage.

"A bug, Mistress. A mosquito," it replied.

Bella stood there for a moment, then blasted the house elf to bits in her rage.

"GET OUT! ALL OF YOU!" she screamed at the others.

They all disappeared in an instant.

Breathing heavily, Bellatrix stood in the arena, furious. The witch had escaped her. Bella had underestimated her. Volaria was smarter than she'd ever dreamed. Bella had planned on using Voltaire to dispose of her. She wasn't needed any longer.

"Damn it!" the witch seethed, storming from the arena.

Volaria had to be with Severus, and the wizard had no way to contact her or bring the girl back. Volaria knew too much, she could ruin everything if she told the wrong people about Voltaire before he claimed the throne. This didn't give her much time.

She should have killed Volaria when she first showed her weakness. Now she was a problem.

A big problem.

Bella needed to reach Severus. She didn't dare send a message to Hogwarts. She walked through the arena into the stronghold proper and toward Jordan's quarters, her eyes flashing.

She threw open his door. The wizard was giving Voltaire a bit of water, the boy resting on a cot. Two house elves stood trembling in the corner, still traumatized from the witch's reaction to Volaria escaping. Jordan looked up at the witch and the look on her face made his blood run cold.

Bella stalked over to the cot and looked down on Voltaire.

"How is he?" she asked

"In great pain. I've given him some pain potion, but periodically he goes into small seizures," Jordan replied, his brown eyes a bit glazed as he looked at the witch. She was angry…and when she was angry, she found ways to release that anger. Painful, humiliating ways.

"Is he in any mortal danger?" Bella asked the wizard.

Jordan wanted to lie and say yes so he would have to stay with the young wizard, but the truth was Voltaire wasn't in any immediate danger.

"No," the wizard replied with a sigh.

Bella looked at Jordan, then the house elves.

"Attend Voltaire," she said to them imperiously, "Jordan, you come with me."

"Yes, Mistress," he said resignedly as the house elves looked at him sympathetically. They knew what the Mistress put him through when she was angry.

Bella strode from the wizard's rooms and toward her playroom, Jordan following meekly behind.

He hoped she wouldn't use the clamps.

* * *

Eloise Hedgeberry sat at the candy counter reading a book called "Legendary Creatures: Myth and Reality. Of course she was on the chapter about werewolves.

Killing werewolves that is.

According to the book, silver would kill a werewolf. Unfortunately, Eloise found she couldn't handle silver…quite by accident. Like most people, her utensil drawer was filled with mismatched forks, knives and spoons. She reached in for a fork one night and picked up a silver one and burned her hand badly. Boils formed and burst and it was extremely painful, continuing to burn long after she had dropped the fork. About an hour later, however, her hand was fully healed. Experimentally she tried using rubber gloves but still was burned, though not as badly as the first time. Silver wasn't a good idea.

Then there was destroying the heart or brain, but she would have to cut the heart out and burn it, otherwise it would heal. The same thing for the brain, but it was simpler. Smashing a werewolf in the head with great force would stop a werewolf just like any other creature, then the head would have to be cut off and destroyed.

Eloise believed she could easily cut Fenrir's head off. She hated him just that much for what he had done to her. But he was huge. How could she do it? Perhaps she could catch him off guard the next full moon. It would have to be after she transformed back, maybe when he was sleeping she could slip out of his grasp, find a large stone in the cave and bash his head in with it. Still, that would leave the problem of cutting his head off. Plus, how would she get back to London?

A woman approached the counter with a box of chocolate. Eloise took care of her quickly, her nostrils flared as she smelled cats on the woman. She growled a little, the woman looking at her startled as Eloise handed her change. The customer quickly exited the store.

Eloise hadn't even noticed she growled.

She went back to the book and read a bit more. It also said a werewolf could be killed by something that damaged the brain or heart irrevocably, such as hanging, where the body is deprived of oxygen for a long period of time. It couldn't heal without oxygen. If she managed to hang Fenrir and left him swinging for a couple of hours, that would take care of him but good. But damn, how could she manage that? He certainly wasn't going to stand under a tree and let her put a noose around his thick neck. Eloise sighed.

She knew her only chance to kill Fenrir depended on her embracing her werewolf form, so she could be cognizant of her activities and able to think clearly. From the scratches she'd left on his face, she was very powerful in her werewolf form. Maybe she could kill him when transformed…rip his heart out and consume it. It seemed fitting.

* * *

While riding the tube home, Eloise caught a scent that made her hair stand up. It was a faint scent…but familiar…in a bad way. But she was compelled to investigate it.

She stood up and began to make her way through the train, moving toward the front of the car, sniffing, a growl low in her throat. The scent grew stronger and rage began to grow inside her. She stopped about ten feet away from an older man reading a newspaper. She stared at him.

The man must have felt her. He looked up suddenly and met her eyes. He looked to be in his early fifties, clean-cut and in a suit. He had gray eyes, salt and pepper hair and his nose was a bit crooked as if it had been broken a couple of times. He stared at her a moment, then frowned and looked back down at his newspaper.

Eloise continued to stare at him, the other passengers noticing and looking at her oddly.

Eloise continued to stare at the man, who grew uncomfortable and rose, getting off at the next stop. She was tempted to follow him, but didn't know why she disliked him so much. She didn't like his smell, that was for certain. It did something unpleasant to her.

But then again, she had felt that way about several people she had come in contact with, not liking their odor for one reason or another, but this was the first time she felt like confronting someone because of the way they smelled. As the door closed, the man looked back at her, still frowning. Eloise craned her head to continue watching him as the train pulled away.

That night, Eloise tossed and turned in her bed as an old nightmare returned to her. She was walking up a dimly lit hallway, age twenty again, letting herself into her first flat. She had just got the door opened when she was pushed roughly inside and the door slammed behind her. A man with a bandana tied around the lower half of his face pounced on her, punching her in the mouth when she screamed.

"Shut up, slut!" he hissed at her, "Or I swear to God I'll kill you!"

He pushed Eloise into her living room and told her to sit down on the sofa and not to move. He then began to rummage through the flat. Eloise thought about bolting for the door, but if she didn't make it, she'd be dead…she knew it. So she sat there, scared to move, listening as the masked man rambled through her things.

Presently he came back, his eyes full of anger.

"You don't have shit here," he seethed at her.

"I…I don't make much money. I can barely afford this place…" she began.

"Did I ask you for your fucking life story?" he snarled at her.

Eloise didn't say anything else.

The man stood there, then his eyes washed over her slowly.

"You're a pretty little bird," he said, licking his lips, "This doesn't have to be a total waste."

Eloise screamed in her sleep as she relived the brutal rape and beating she went through on her living room couch.

But in the dream, she kept seeing his eyes.

Gray eyes…gray eyes and a crooked nose…

Suddenly Eloise leapt up out of her sleep, her eyes becoming black-veined as she snarled viciously. She knew who the man was on the train now.

Her rapist. She subconsciously remembered his scent.

She had to find him…find him and punish him.

* * *

"There she is Wooten, just like I said," Fredrick said, his eyes narrowed as he looked in the record shop window. "Pretty bird isn't she? Muggle-born."

Wooten squinted at Malina, who was counting down her register. It was just after dusk and she was closing up shop. She was dressed in a black sweater and black stretch jeans, her wand sticking out her back pocket.

"She's got a wand," Wooten said, "Looks like she might be trouble, Fredrick."

"So she's got a wand? There's two of us and one of her. Don't be a pussy, Wooten. I swear, ever since that chit kicked you in the balls it's like you've lost them completely," Fredrick complained.

"I've got balls," Wooten said angrily.

"Well prove it. Let's get her," Fredrick said.

Both Death Eaters looked up and down the street. Shops closed early here and there was no one about. They walked toward the shop, Fredrick leading the way.

Malina looked up at the door opened. Shit, she'd forgotten to put up the "closed" sign. Since it wasn't quite eight, she still had to serve customers if they came in. She frowned a little, hoping the two men that entered wouldn't find what they were looking for or she'd have to do her count all over again. She sighed, then put on her 'clerk' smile.

"Can I help you sirs?" she asked the two men.

Fredrick gave her a disarming smile.

"Yes, I'm looking for a copy of 'You've Charmed Me' by the Broken Wizards.

Malina's eyebrows rose.

"That's quite an oldie," she said, walking around the counter, "Follow me. I'll help you look."

Fredrick glanced back at Wooten, who appeared to be perusing a couple of music magazines and nodded at the door. Wooten turned the closed sign around and pulled the blind down, then followed.

Malina stopped in front of the oldies section and began to leaf through the titles.

"I don't know if we have it…if we don't I can order it for you from the catalogue," Malina said, her fingers shifting the albums.

Fredrick eyed her wand.

"That will be fine," he said as Wooten walked up. They looked at each other.

"Ah…we do have a co…" Malina started to say when suddenly a hand was clapped over her mouth and her wand pulled out of her pocket. A strong arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Got her!" Fredrick said as Malina screamed behind his hand and tried to bite him, kicking her legs frantically. She pushed off the floor and knocked him back into the shelf of albums, but he held on to her, albums scattering everywhere

"Shit, hold her Fredrick!" Wooten urged as Malina kicked and struggled. Wooten pulled out his wand and stunned her. She slumped in Fredrick's arms, the wizard panting.

"I'm not going through what we did with that other bitch," Wooten said through gritted teeth, "Now let's go."

Fredrick tossed the unconscious Malina over his shoulder and both wizards disillusioned themselves.

"Damn, you sure know how to pick them, Fredrick," Wooten complained as they exited the shop, leaving the door open. They disapparated just as Draco rounded the corner. He was going to bring Malina to the Manor tonight. The witch had put him off almost a solid week.

"Familiarity breeds contempt," she told the wizard, "I'm not going to sleep with you every night just because you're available Draco."

Draco looked her over a bit lustfully.

"I find nothing about you contemptible in the least, Malina," he purred at her.

"I'm still not coming over," she snapped.

So, he was regulated to escorting her home and not coming in. If he did enter, she might as well be at his Manor. They'd end up in bed. Malina was very susceptible to Draco's seduction techniques, which ranged from him pouting to actually man-handling her, though normally he was somewhere in the middle with his approach.

Draco heard the sound of apparition and hurried to the store. There were no apparition points near the shop, so it had to be an illegal disappearance. His belly tightened as he saw the door to the shop opened and the blind drawn with the closed sign visible. He entered the store and saw that Malina had the closing book lying on the counter and a quill beside it. This didn't bode well. Malina always finished her paperwork and wouldn't have left the book out.

"Malina?" Draco called, pulling out his wand and walking behind the counter to look at the floor. No, she wasn't there. He opened the door to the back office slowly, his wand at the ready. No, she wasn't there either.

Draco closed the door and began to walk through the store, looking for her…a cold fear rising inside of him. When he came to the aisle with the scattered, crushed albums, he knew the worst had happened.

Someone had taken Malina.

Draco pulled out a piece of parchment and looked at it.

"Track!" he hissed.

A map formed on the parchment. It was a landscape and Pumbleberry's Manor was clearly marked with Malina's footsteps heading straight for it. Suddenly, she disappeared from the map. Whoever had her had taken her through the secret entrance which was strongly warded.

"Shit!" Draco cursed, racing from the shop, leaving the door open and disapparating the moment he touched ground outside. He had to get to Malina and save her.

* * *

Malina began to rouse as Fredrick carried her down the long stairwell, followed by Wooten. They hit the landing and started walking quickly down the corridor towards the main room. Wooten saw Malina's eyes flutter.

"She's waking up," he said warningly.

"She hasn't got a wand," Fredrick said, "Don't worry about it. Once we get her to the revel we'll take care of her good."

Malina heard him. Revel? Oh gods, no!

Malina began to struggle and Fredrick threw her off his shoulder to the stone floor, hard. The witch lay there dazed as the wizard knelt, drawing his face close to hers.

"Now listen, witch…we don't want any trouble out of you or we'll kill you right now," he said to Malina, his eyes hard.

Malina didn't say anything, and Fredrick hauled her to her feet, then twisted her arm painfully behind her back. Malina let out a little cry.

"Walk!" he said, pushing Malina forward roughly.

Wooten followed them, glad to see Fredrick was handling this witch better than he did the last woman they kidnapped.

Fredrick walked down the corridor and the witch could hear laughter and screams as they approached an archway from which bright light issued. Fredrick guided her through the opening and Malina's eyes went wide at the sight that met her eyes.

People, some in masks and all in various stages of undress walked about freely, eating and conversating. There were tables laden with food and drink and a number of sofas. But what caught her eye were the beds on one side of the room. There had to be at least thirty of them and more than half were filled with people having sex, and not good sex…brutal sex, the women screaming and being beaten while penetrated. Some were bound and handcuffed, others were being whipped. She could smell blood.

In the middle of the room surrounded by chairs was a huge bed, and a mass of naked bodies wriggling, pumped and squirmed all over it, while others sat in the chairs watching, wanking off or both.

Fredrick grinned at the horror on Malina's face.

"Welcome to the party," he purred in her ear, then pushed her forward.

Pumbleberry waddled up to greet them, looking Malina over.

"Urm…I see that you've brought your own entertainment," Pumbleberry said, "Nice, but…urm…a bit too old for me."

"Not for me," Wooten said, walking around Fredrick and running his hand over Malina's breasts. The witch screamed at the intimate contact. Wooten hesitated. He had felt something hard under her t-shirt.

"What's this?" he said, reaching down her shirt and pulling up Draco's ring attached to her necklace. He studied it and gave a low whistle.

"What's a blue-collar witch like you doing with something like this?" he asked her before yanking the necklace off her neck and putting it and the ring into his robes pocket, "Well, you're not going to need it after tonight. You won't be going anywhere except to the Afterlife…and like they say, you can't take it with you. Hold her, Fredrick. Let's see what she's got."

Fredrick grabbed Malina's wrists and held her arms up as she struggled. She kicked Wooten and he punched her hard in the nose. Blood leaked from it.

"I got bloody kicked in the jewels last time," he snarled at her, "You do it and I'll break your fucking neck. Now cooperate or it's going to be worse for you."

Her face pulsing, Malina despairingly went limp. She was going to be raped and killed. She closed her eyes as she felt Wooten tugging her t-shirt out of her pants and pulling it up over her face, his thick fingers grasping her bra-clad breast and squeezing it so hard she whimpered. Then her shirt was pulled over her head roughly, Fredrick removing it as Wooten pulled up her bra. She let out a scream as she felt his mouth close over a nipple and his hand groped at her bum.

"Oh yeah. A screamer," Fredrick said, pressing his erection against her for a moment, "Come on Wooten, let's get a bed."

Wooten grabbed Malina's legs and the two wizards made their way over to the bed area, weaving through the bouncing mattresses, screaming victims and thrusting bodies to a bed that had been used. There was a blood stain on it.

"This'll do," Fredrick hissed and the two wizards dropped Malina on it. She immediately tried to scramble off but they were too quick for her.

"Like a rabbit, this one," Wooten said as he grabbed her ankle. Malina kicked at him ineffectually. Fredrick slapped her.

"We told you about kicking," he said, starting to unbutton his robes as Wooten grabbed her other ankle. "I'm going to teach you one hell of a lesson, witch."

Wooten licked his lips as Fredrick shrugged off his robes, revealing tented tidy-whities.

"Nooooo!" Malina screamed as Fredrick began unfastening her jeans.

Suddenly, Fredrick was hit by wand blast and went flying, landing on an occupied bed several feet away, interrupting a vigorous raping.

"What the…" Wooten said, turning only to be hit in the jaw with a powerful blow. He fell, pulling Malina around on the bed since he still had a hold on her legs.

"Now, now! Urm…what's going on here?" Pumbleberry huffed, hurrying up in time to see Draco wrap his robes around the trembling Malina.

"These animals stole what is mine," Draco snarled, moving Malina behind him as Wooten got up off the floor and Fredrick walked back shakily. Draco's gray eyes were murderous as he looked at the two wizards.

"What do you mean 'yours?'" Wooten said angrily, rubbing his jaw. He would have hexed Draco if he didn't have a wand trained on him. "We got her from the record shop."

Malina, still shaken blinked at the back of Draco's head. He knew these men?

"I mean mine. She wears my ring. She is my property," Draco seethed. He turned to Malina and partially opened his robes. The necklace and ring weren't there.

"Where's the ring?" he asked her, his eyes so hard she nearly couldn't recognize him.

"He took it," Malina replied, pointing at Wooten, who thrust his jaw out.

"I didn't take nothing," he hissed.

Draco stared at him a moment, then handed Malina his wand.

"Use it if you have to," he said, then turned back to Wooten.

"Give me my ring," he said.

"Sure," Wooten said, reaching into his pocket, intending on pulling out his wand and blasting the blonde wizard.

"Accio wand!" Malina shouted suddenly, Wooten's wand flying into her outstretched hand. The startled wizard looked at her. Draco's wand worked for her. That meant they probably were as close as the wizard claimed. Lovers could often use each others' wands.

"Just wanted to keep you honest," the witch said, an ugly look on her face. She hoped Draco beat the shit out of both of them.

"The ring, Wooten," Draco said once more.

He looked so much like Lucius when angry that Wooten paled a moment. Lucius had been a brutal fighter, the kind of wizard who took great pleasure in breaking bones. How much like the father was the son? He decided he didn't want to find out. He reached in his pocket and produced the ring. Draco snatched it out of his hand, then punched him in the jaw again, breaking it this time.

Wooten fell, and this time he didn't get up.

"Hey!" Fredrick shouted at Draco, still in his underwear, "You had no call to do that! He gave you the ring."

"He also touched my witch," Draco seethed, "If I had come here and found you two raping her…both of you would have died, believe me!"

"Now, now, Draco," Pumbleberry said, "Urm…what's this about you having…urm…a witch? I thought you didn't…urm…indulge? Because of your…urm…malady."

All around them people were listening with interest.

"Haven't you heard of condoms?" Draco said, "I have needs too. But I don't indulge here because condoms break and half of you would get this STD if that happened. But…if you are willing to take the chance…I can start participating. As it stands only one witch can be infected, and it doesn't make much difference."

Malina looked at Draco shocked. An STD? What in the world was he talking about?

"Urm…no…no Draco, we appreciate you protecting us. Take your witch and go then," Pumbleberry said, twirling the end of his waxed mustache.

Draco's gray eyes dropped to Wooten.

"Tell that bastard any time he feels as if he wants satisfaction, I'll be glad to oblige him," Draco hissed. Then he took his wand from Malina and quickly escorted the witch from the room, the crowd around them parting.

"So, Draco's keeping a muggle-born for his mistress?" a witch whispered to another, who shrugged.

"Ass is ass," she said, "Better a muggle-born taking a chance on getting an STD than a true witch. Come on…there's a couple of muggle men chained to the far wall."

The two witches made a beeline to the poor men being poked and prodded by a gang of masked Death Eaters. One let out a piercing cry.

"Draco, how did you find me?" Malina asked the wizard as he dragged her through the corridor.

"Never mind that. How did you let yourself be taken?" he hissed at her, furious.

"They surprised me," Malina said, "I didn't expect to be abducted, Draco. Neither of them had "potential kidnapper" etched in their foreheads."

"I don't care. You're going to learn how to protect yourself," he declared, pulling her up the stairwell.

"I can protect myself," Malina argued, "They just surprised me."

Draco stopped on the stairs, grabbed both of Malina's shoulders and shook her brutally.

"Did you see what was going on in there? Women were dying, Malina! Any one of them could have been you! I want you to know what to do next time you are 'surprised." I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you, Malina," he said, his voice quavering.

Suddenly Draco pulled her into him, holding her so tightly, Malina could hardly breathe.

"Draco…Draco, I can't breathe," she gasped in the wizard's arms.

Draco released her, his eyes full of emotion.

"Come on, I'm taking you to the Manor," he said, pulling her up the stairs. They walked across the landscape until they were beyond the anti-apparition ward, then disapparated.

Draco brought Malina to the Manor as he said, and had the house elves draw her up a bath, then undressed her and helped her in. He didn't feel lust as he watched her step down into the tub, only concern. The wizard washed her back for her and helped her rinse, dried her, then brought her a silk nightgown in Slytherin green for her to wear.

Malina couldn't eat anything, and Draco didn't have much of an appetite either…his belly still ached from the fear he felt when he realized Malina had been taken for revel fodder. If he had just been a minute later…

Draco let out a long breath to calm himself. It hadn't come to that, thank the gods.

When they climbed into bed, Draco made no move to touch Malina. She'd been touched enough tonight. She didn't mention that. She didn't talk about what happened at all except to ask him about the STD he was supposed to have.

"It has to do with my work for the Order," he said shortly.

Malina said nothing else about it. She figured it was a lie the wizard told to keep from taking part in the horrible activities. The witch shuddered as she remembered the terrible scene that met her eyes when she entered the revel. Draco felt her tremble and wrapped both his arms around her, pulling her close.

"I'm sorry you had to experience that, Malina," he said softly.

Malina was quiet for a moment.

"And all those other women?" she asked him.

"Dead," Draco said, the word like bile in his mouth, "All dead, you can be sure."

"You've watched women being murdered, Draco?" Malina asked him, her heart feeling cold now. She felt him nod.

"Too many women, too many times, Malina. Sometimes I feel as if I'm dying myself…inside. The worst part is, I can do nothing other than what I'm doing now if I want to save them," Draco said, "I can only watch and listen."

"What are you listening for, Draco?" she asked him softly.

"An answer, Malina," he replied, pain in his voice, "An answer for it all. Hopefully, there will be one soon."

Draco fell silent, but Malina could feel him quaking just a little. Now she understood why he cried out in his sleep sometimes, or woke looking as if he didn't know where he was, or desperately made love to her when he returned from wherever it was he went. It was what he was forced to see…and allow. It was horrible.

"You'll find the answer, Draco," she said softly, "You'll find a way to save them."

Draco blinked up at the ceiling. Snape was the one he had to count on for now. He had no idea how his meeting went with Bella. He'd have to stop by the school and talk to Albus.

"I can only hope, Malina," he said, tightening his hold on the witch and closing his eyes. His hand drifted up to her necklace, then down to the ring. He grasped the warm, hard piece gratefully.

It had saved Malina's life.

* * *

As Hermione transfigured the sofa into a bed, Volaria enjoyed a nice hot bath. Hermione had a number of scented spigots around her tub, and after testing each of them, Volaria chose the rose-scented one. She soaked in the tub luxuriously.

Severus stood in Hermione's study, scowling, his arms folded across his chest, watching as Hermione made up the bed by hand. She looked over at the Potions Master

"Really Severus…do you have to look so sour?" she asked him.

"Yes, I do," Severus said, "I find this girl staying with you quite an intrusion. We know nothing about her. She may hex you in your sleep."

Hermione put her hands on her hips.

"Severus, Fawkes gave Volaria the 'all clear.' She's just a young witch who needs help," Hermione said to him.

"A young witch who can do wandless, non-verbal magic and who has been raised by Bellatrix LeStrange. If she decides to turn on you, Hermione, you'll never see it coming. I still say she should be locked away," the Potions Master said, "And what about our 'quality time?' I barely get a chance to be alone with you as it is."

"Severus, stop being a selfish prat," Hermione said, returning to making up the bed, "Your wand won't fall off if it doesn't take a dip for a few nights."

"A few nights?" Severus said incredulously, "You mean a few weeks. You're so wrapped up in your project to save a wizard probably not worth saving, you give me no time. The only reason you deigned to give me a tumble yesterday is because you thought I was walking into the jaws of death."

Hermione turned on him, her face black. Severus got a very bad feeling.

"A tumble? Was that what last night was to you, Severus?" she asked him, her voice getting higher.

Oh shit. Time for some quick damage control. Severus looked around to see what Hermione would grab first to throw at him. She was quite close to a heavy book on the coffee table.

"No…no. It was more than that Hermione…I was just…just…" Severus began.

"Just trying to make me feel guilty that I'm more dedicated to my work than kicking my heels up into the air for you," Hermione finished for him, her eyes narrowed, "That's really mature, Severus."

Severus just looked at her.

"And plus, there's the matter of you drugging me today so I'd sleep through your meeting with Bella," Hermione said, frowning.

"That was for your own good. You would have worried yourself sick waiting to see if I made it back," the wizard said.

"That's no excuse, Severus. You know what? Right now, these thighs are on lockdown. No nookie for the Potions Master until he learns how to treat me like an adult and not a child," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"What?" Severus said, scowling blackly.

"You heard me. No sex until further notice," Hermione said firmly, her jaw thrust out determinedly.

Severus stared at Hermione. This was…was blackmail. Extortion. And completely unreasonable.

Severus was about to start a very heated argument when Volaria walked out of Hermione's bedroom, dressed in one of her flannel gowns and smelling of roses. Severus' nose wrinkled immediately at the scent.

He hated anything to do with roses.

"That bath was wonderful," Volaria said, "Thank you, Hermione."

"You're very welcome, Volaria," Hermione replied, "I've made up a bed for you, and I will keep the fireplace lit so you aren't in complete darkness.

"You don't walk in your sleep do you? Or cast accidental spells while you dream?" Severus asked the young witch, who looked at him as if he were insane.

"Of course I don't, Severus," she replied.

The Potions Master stiffened at her use of his given name. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and quickly stepped between them.

"Um, Volaria. Professor Snape is much older than you are and to use his given name in such a familiar way is…is bad etiquette and considered a lack of proper respect. Please address him as Professor Snape and only Professor Snape," she said, looking over her shoulder at Severus, who looked ready to hex the girl.

"Or Sir," Snape growled at her.

Volaria looked taken aback.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that I didn't hear anyone else address him by a title," she said apologetically.

"All adults should be addressed this way," Hermione said.

Volaria looked at her.

"Do you want me to call you Miss Granger?" she asked Hermione.

"Only when we are around others in public. In my rooms you can call me Hermione," the witch said, smiling at her.

Severus still scowled. Now that Volaria was here, he couldn't take Hermione to task about her decision to cut him off.

"We need to talk, Hermione. Privately," he said, narrowing his eyes at Volaria. The little cockblocker.

"Not tonight, Severus," Hermione replied, pulling back the covers invitingly for Volaria, who sat down on the edge of the bed and bounced experimentally, "Now it's time to say good night."

Severus' dark eyes rested on her momentarily, and Hermione shuddered inside at the way he was looking at her. It was his "wait until I get you under me again" look.

"Fine," the wizard snapped bad-naturedly, "Good night then."

He whirled and walked toward the door.

"Goodnight, Professor Snape," Volaria sang after him.

The wizard hesitated for a moment, then pulled open the door and stormed out with a billow of robes, slamming the door behind him.

Volaria looked at Hermione, who stared at the door Severus exited through.

"He doesn't like me very much, does he?" Volaria said to Hermione.

"He doesn't like anyone very much, Volaria. It's just his nature. He's actually a very good wizard," Hermione said. "He's just a bit anti-social. He's been through a lot."

"I know he has. My father used to torture him. I saw it in a pensieve Bella gave to Voltaire to study. She wants Voltaire to torture him too," Volaria said. "When he becomes the new Dark Lord."

Hermione stared at her a moment, then sat down on the bed.

"Volaria…can you tell me a little about your brother? What he was like before he began to drink the elixir?" Hermione asked her.

Volaria nodded.

"Voltaire was always mean. He liked to hurt things from when he was very little. We fought all the time. He was jealous of me because I could do wandless magic and he couldn't, and he called me names all the time. He never once acted like a brother. He's always seemed to hate me. Aunt Bella spoils him, and rewards him when he does terrible things, like kill house elves or hexes Jordan for fun," Volaria said.

"Jordan? Who's Jordan?" Hermione asked.

"Jordan lives with us. He's a healer. He doesn't want to be there, but Bella makes him stay. She's mean to him. Beats him. But she needs him to take care of us. I think that's the only reason he isn't dead. She has him chained in his room for most of the day, but lets him out in the arena with the house elves watching him. He doesn't have a wand handy…she gives it to him only when he has to do healing work and she keeps her wand on him the entire time. She doesn't trust him," the young witch said. "She doesn't let me talk to him either. She said he'd do dirty things to me, but I don't believe her."

"Has Jordan always been there?" Hermione asked her.

"Yes, all my life. He took care of me when I was very little…then Aunt Bella took over," she said with a little shudder. "She made me do things…horrible things to animals. One day I refused to do it and she was very disappointed and said I was weak. But I'm not weak. I just don't like to kill things. I can't give life back. It's…it's precious," the witch said, her eyes filling with tears.

"Yes, it is very precious, Volaria," Hermione agreed, her heart going out to the young witch. It must have been terrible for the girl to grow up with Bellatrix…to be forced to hurt and kill things, and be browbeaten for not liking it.

"How about your education? How did you learn?" she asked the girl.

"Well, Aunt Bella had pensieves of when she went to school and gave them to us. Plus we have a huge library. I learned that way. I read a lot and studied things on my own since there wasn't much to do. That's how I learned to become an animagus. I was kind of disappointed…being just a mosquito…but it came in handy," she said with a little smile.

"Yes it did," Hermione agreed, smiling back at the witch, "It was a brilliant way to escape. Did you plan it?"

"No," Volaria replied, shaking her head, "At first I just wanted to see what they were doing to Voltaire. It was horrible…blood everywhere," she said shuddering, "Then I was going to fly back to my rooms when I decided to stay on the Professor and leave with him. It was my only chance. Aunt Bella was going to let Voltaire kill me when he got better, I'm sure of it. She doesn't need me anymore."

She looked at Hermione, her lip trembling.

"I didn't want to die," she whispered, tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

Hermione moved closer to the girl, embracing her as she sobbed.

"Don't worry, Volaria. You're safe now," she said.

"Not if Voltaire becomes the next Voldemort. He's going to want to kill me because I'm his sister and have the same blood. He and Bella believe my father was a king. But he was just a murderer…a horrible murderer," she gasped.

Hermione sat there silently for several minutes, stroking Volaria's hair until the witch stopped crying, then she sat back and looked at Volaria soberly.

"Volaria, do you think that if we managed to turn Voltaire normal again, that he could learn to be…well…normal?" Hermione asked her.

Volaria looked at her and slowly shook her head.

"Voltaire is evil through and through. He'd be that way even without taking the elixir. He likes killing and wants to control everything and everybody. He wants Aunt Bella to be his queen. Even if he didn't have the extra powers, he would still be that way," Volaria said.

"All right. Thank you Volaria. Now, get under the covers. You've had quite a day. I want you to get some rest," Hermione said.

Volaria slipped under the covers and looked up at Hermione.

"Thank you for helping me, Hermione," she said softly.

"You're welcome, Volaria. Now, go to sleep," Hermione said, smoothing her hair.

Volaria yawned, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"Good night," she said sleepily, snuggling into the pillow.

"Good night," Hermione said, pulling her wand and lowering the flame in the floo.

Quietly she exited the study and walked into the bedroom, sitting down on the bed deep in thought.

Volaria didn't believe her brother could be rehabilitated. Still, reversing the effects of the elixir would at least make him manageable. She would still work on it. There might be some hope for the boy despite his sister's assessment of him.

She could only hope.

* * *

In a foul mood, Severus poured himself a firewhiskey and plopped down in his chair. Volaria had ruined everything. Albus and Hermione were just too easy to trust, always believing the best about others until they were proven wrong. Severus was not that gullible. Yes, Fawkes had given the okay, but that was for her intentions at the moment. She was Tom Riddle's daughter…a wooly bloodline at best. The witch could be capable of anything in the future.

He took a sip of his firewhiskey, scowling into the flames of the fireplace. As good a man as Severus Snape was, he had one fault…once someone wronged him that wrong transferred to anything associated with that person. Case in point, Harry Potter. Severus hated him on sight because he was James Potter's son. He still didn't care for Harry.

He was going through the same thing with Volaria, placing the sins of the father on the daughter. It was unfair, but that was how it was. He didn't believe she should be embraced, but put someplace and watched closely. Someplace other than his lover's rooms. Plus, if she told anyone else about Voltaire and Bella, it could ruin everything. The girl should at least be put away until all this madness was over and the threat defused.

But no. Albus wanted to put her in classes and treat her like every other student. But she wasn't a normal student. She was the flesh and blood of Lord Voldemort, the most evil magical despot that ever lived. How could the Headmaster be so thick? Hermione, he understood. That bleeding heart of hers knew no bounds. Intelligence didn't necessarily mean smarts. She'd be treating the young witch like another project in no time. But Albus…considering all he'd been through over the years, he should know better.

Severus sighed as he finished his drink.

No. Albus was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. Another bleeding heart.

Well, he would be on guard if no one else was. He planned to watch that little witch like a hawk. He'd find out if she really was what she claimed to be…someone seeking sanctuary. If she wasn't, he didn't care how young she was…she'd be taken care of. Fawkes might be a good judge of character, but nothing was perfect. In this case, Severus wasn't willing to take the word of a bird, even if it was an intelligent phoenix. With wandless magic and the ability to cast non-verbal spells, Volaria had the ability to be a true danger. No one knew how much of Bella's twistedness had rubbed off on the girl. She was the picture of innocence. Severus wondered what was under the paint.

The Potions Master loosened the collar of his robes then stood up and walked over to his liquor cabinet to fix another drink. As he poured, he thought about Bella. She'd probably killed a few house elves by now in her rage. That poor soul Jordan might not be in that good a shape either. He would have to tell Albus about him and have a search performed to see if anyone named Jordan fitting his description had mysteriously disappeared in the last twenty years.

He sat back down again.

Hermione had cut him off. He frowned. He had been cut off for the past few weeks anyway. But now it was "official." What was he going to do about that? He couldn't go to her rooms and seduce/ravish her, thanks to the unwanted presence of Volaria, and that did nothing to endear the young witch to the Potions Master either.

It seemed he would have to beat Hermione at her own game. Make her miss him. It would be difficult with the witch preoccupied as she was by her project and now Volaria.

Hm.

Maybe it was time for him to become active again. The Death Eaters should be about ready to start the competition and Draco could probably use some help gathering the details. Hermione had enough elixir to work with.

Yes. It sounded like a plan and certainly would get Hermione's attention.

* * *

The next day Malina showed up at work to find that she'd been fired. The owner wasn't there but Clarissa happily informed her she no longer had a job.

"You left the shop door open and the money in the register," Clarissa said, "We're lucky we weren't cleaned out. Mr. Morrison said the only excuse for such a thing was if you were abducted, which obviously you weren't. What happened? Why did you leave the store like that?"

Malina looked at Clarissa. She couldn't tell her what happened because of the nature of Draco's work. She would be forced to report the abduction to the Ministry Aurors, and then Draco would become involved. He might even be arrested because of his association because he wouldn't be able to reveal he worked for the Order.

Only a few witches and wizards were actually being abducted by Death Eaters. Most of the revel victims were muggles and the muggle police were handling those disappearances. Muggle-borns were taken too…but since their parents were muggles, they were forced to turn to the muggle police as well when they came up missing if the Aurors couldn't find them. To tell a detective their child was a wizard or witch that lived in a magical world was a sure way to be considered stark raving nutters.

"I had an important emergency," Malina lied, "It came up suddenly and I just…rushed away."

Clarissa looked at her suspiciously.

"What kind of emergency?" she asked the witch, not believing her.

"A personal emergency," Malina said shortly.

Clarissa stared at her, then went into the register and counted out a few galleons and knuts. She took out a parchment and quill from the drawer, sliding them toward Malina.

"Sign this. It's a statement saying you received your final pay," the blonde witch said.

Malina signed the parchment and Clarissa gave her the money.

"Have a good life," she said snidely as Malina left the shop.

Malina walked down the street, her brow furrowed. Shit. Now her income had been cut. She did all right at the studio when she had work, but right now, she didn't have any. She'd have to find another job. She walked to the nearest public apparition point, picking up a Daily Prophet along the way.

She'd check the want ads.

* * *

Hermione did not show up at breakfast the next morning. Severus knew she was having breakfast in her rooms with Volaria. He wondered if she would now neglect her original project because of the young witch.

He finished his breakfast and headed back to his rooms. As he approached, he saw Hermione leaving her rooms dressed in her lab coat. So, she was going to keep working. He noticed she started up the hall without warding her door.

"Hermione," he called, stopping in front of her door.

Hermione scowled at him. She was still angry about yesterday.

"Yes, Severus?" she snapped, walking back as the wizard studied her door.

"Where is Miss Riddle?" he asked her, frowning.

"Why, in my rooms," Hermione replied. "She's reading, and I taught her how to use the floo to order her lunch. She'll be fine."

"It's not her being fine that I am concerned about. Did you take any precautions before you left the witch in there?" he asked her.

"No. What kind of precautions?" Hermione asked.

Severus turned the knob to her rooms and opened the door. He frowned at Hermione for a moment then entered. He found Volaria sitting in an armchair in the study reading a book about Transfiguration.

"Hello Professor Snape," she said smiling at him.

Severus didn't answer but walked up to the floo, pulled out his wand and muttered a spell, Volaria watching him. Severus added his signature to it so it would be next to impossible for someone else to remove.

Hermione walked up to him, scowling.

"What did you do?" she asked him, her hands on her hips.

"I warded the floo so she could speak through it, but not use it," Severus said, leveling his black eyes on Volaria, "I will also be warding the door so she can't leave your rooms. We can't afford to have her wandering around the castle."

Volaria looked up at him, her blue eyes wide.

"You're locking me in?" she asked him.

"Yes, I am. Hermione should have done it before she left you alone here unsupervised. Fortunately, I am not as trusting as she is, Miss Riddle," Severus said darkly.

"Severus, Volaria would have stayed here," Hermione said to him.

"There's no guarantee of that. Witches her age become bored quite easily. She may be tempted to explore her surroundings. We can't afford that. She is currently an unknown…she needs to stay that way," the wizard said firmly. "Besides, I don't trust her."

"But Severus," Hermione began, "you don't know…"

"Precisely. I don't know what she's capable of and I don't want to be surprised," Severus replied.

Hermione's face turned black.

"Now you just wait a minute, Severus Snape," she started.

Volaria stared at Severus for a moment, then said, "No, Hermione. I don't blame him really. A lot of people would feel the same way about me if they knew who I really was. I just showed up here. No one knows about me really. Considering my background, I don't blame the Professor for being careful. I understand, Professor. It's all right."

Severus stared at the witch, then turned and looked at Hermione.

"Definitely Ravenclaw material," he said, "She understands and accepts the situation Hermione. I suggest you do the same while she is in your care. Precautions must be taken."

Hermione looked at Volaria.

"You really don't mind, Volaria?" she asked the young witch.

"No. Aunt Bella often locked me in when teaching Voltaire things she didn't want me to see. I'm used to it actually. As long as I'm not put in a cell or manacles…I can handle it," the witch replied.

Severus didn't think a cell or magic-dampening manacles was too far off the mark, but didn't say anything.

"All right. I'll come back at lunchtime to check on you," Hermione said to the witch.

Volaria nodded and returned to reading her book. Severus exited the rooms, followed by Hermione. He pointed his wand at her door. Hermione stopped him.

"I'll ward it," she said, pulling her own wand and placing a ward on the door.

"Add your signature," Severus growled at her, "She might be able to break wards."

"Really Severus…you act like she's a criminal intent on our destruction," Hermione complained as she added her signature to the ward.

"She's descended from one of the worst criminals that ever plagued the wizarding world. That is enough to warrant keeping an eye on her," he replied, "I expect you to be vigilant Hermione…particularly since I will be gone for a few days. Exactly how long I'm not sure."

Hermione stared at him.

"Where are you going?" she asked, suddenly feeling cold inside.

Severus looked up and down the corridor, then cast a silencing spell around them

"I am going to deliver the elixir to Rosier and try to find out any details I can about the competition. Most likely I will be invited to stay a few days," Severus said to her, studying her face.

Ah, there it was. Worry and concern.

"But Severus…" Hermione began, protesting, "So soon?"

"I have been out of circulation more than a month, Hermione. I need to get back into the loop and find out what is happening with the Death Eaters first hand," he said quietly.

Hermione's face fell. Severus smirked just a bit.

"Why the long face, witch? It was your intention to give me a wide berth for an undetermined length of time. My absence will facilitate that, will it not?" the wizard asked her silkily.

Hermione looked at him. It was one thing to have Severus here and cut off, where she could see the effects and feel her power over him. It was another thing to have him gone and in a dangerous situation that he might not come back from.

"It's…it's different Severus. I'd know you were here and safe," Hermione said, her eyes glistening now.

"Oh, so that makes your enforced estrangement easier to bear, knowing that I would be in my rooms alone…without you…possibly pining?" Severus replied, arching an eyebrow at her, "I imagine it ruins your sense of…control…power…to have me spend my time immersed in other activities."

Hermione stared up at him.

"Severus…you aren't doing this because I said I wouldn't sleep with you, are you?" she asked him.

Severus studied her.

"It may have something to do with my decision, Hermione. The truth is, I'm not needed here. You have your project and the young witch to supervise. You have no time for me, and if you did have time, by your own admission you wouldn't spend it intimately with me in any case. I don't believe in self-torture, Hermione. I refuse to sit in my rooms night after night, twiddling my thumbs or wanking off because you haven't decided to "let me in" yet. I understand you are trying to 'teach me a lesson' by making yourself unavailable. But I am not the kind of man to sit and wait idly by for another person to make a decision concerning me. You have my heart witch, but I will not be controlled by my desire for you…or punished by that desire. I have work to do and plan to do it rather than hover about you like a shadow begging for your forgiveness. I did what I did to protect you. I will not apologize for it. And I will not let you dangle your charms before me and not be able to touch you. I will return, and maybe then…maybe then you will be more understanding," the wizard said to her.

Then he checked the corridor again, and seeing no one, leaned and kissed Hermione gently on the lips. His dark eyes met hers soberly.

"I must go now and meet with Rosier. I will see you when I see you, witch," the Potions Master said.

Severus removed the silencing spell and walked with robes billowing to his office and let himself in, glancing at her once more, then disappearing, closing the door behind him.

Hermione remained standing in the corridor trying to come to terms with what just happened. Had she driven Severus back into his dangerous lifestyle by arbitrarily cutting him off?

She scowled slightly as she walked down the hall and through the hidden doorway that led to the subdungeons.

True, she had made her decision without attempting to talk to him first. But he had treated her like a child, not taking what she wanted into consideration. Was turnabout fair play in this case? It seemed not. She was guilty of the same offense as he was, acting without giving Severus a chance to explain his side, or to come to some kind of agreement. She had wanted to punish the wizard. When it came to their sex life, Hermione was the one in control. Yes, the wizard did act like a caveman at times, scooping her up and finding the nearest bed, but if she truly wanted to stop him…she could.

Was it possible she was becoming too familiar with the Potions Master? They had been together for two years, and the wizard had changed quite a bit for her to try and keep her happy. Did she take him for granted now? Had she pushed him away because she felt she had the control in the relationship? Severus was not a wizard to be controlled. Any kindness or thoughtfulness he acted with was because it was in him to conduct himself in such a way. Any unthoughtfulness was usually because he thought he knew best. He was older than she was and possibly wiser though it was hard to admit sometimes, particularly since he was so relationship-challenged. Severus was still learning her. Hermione needed to realize she was still learning him as well. She didn't know the wizard as well as she believed she did.

Today, Severus had shown her he was not a man to be led by his nose…or his tool. He'd all but told her that when he returned…the status of their relationship would be up to her. He'd also said he wouldn't allow himself to be punished by his desire for her.

It was never Hermione's intention to make him feel that way.

The witch walked down the long stairwell and was almost at the bottom when she stopped, turned and began running back up the stairs. She couldn't let him leave like this. She needed to tell him at least she'd be willing to talk, to come to some kind of understanding before he left so he'd know what he felt did matter to her.

Hermione pushed through the doorway and ran out into the corridor, almost colliding with several Slytherins on the way back to their house after breakfast. She then ran to his office and entered, then pulled the torches in the proper sequence to open the wall to his study. It seemed to take forever to slide aside. She caught the sound of apparition and let out a wail.

"Noooo, oh Severus! No!" she cried, running to the bedroom. But she was too late.

Severus was gone.

Hermione's amber eyes shifted back and forth, going over their conversation.

"Rosier. He said he was going to see Rosier. It's day. Most likely he will be at his shop," she said to herself.

She hurriedly left Severus' rooms, exited his office and walked to her own rooms. She unwarded the door and let herself in. Volaria was in the same armchair, her face buried in the Transfiguration book. She was as studious as Hermione was in her younger days and didn't even notice Hermione until she walked past her.

"You weren't gone long," Volaria said, putting down the book and walking into Hermione's bedroom behind the witch. She watched as Hermione removed her lab coat and put on her robes, then a traveling cloak.

"Are you going someplace?" Volaria asked her curiously.

"Yes, I have to leave the grounds. It's very important…but I should be back shortly," Hermione said, tucking her wand into her robes pocket, "Now if I don't make it back in time for lunch, go ahead and order what you like from the kitchens. You do remember how to do that, right?"

Volaria nodded.

"Good. Now you will be warded in, but the house elves can wink in and out and will have no problems bringing your food to you. Are you going to be all right?" Hermione asked her.

"Yes," Volaria said.

"Good. I'll see you when I get back," Hermione said hurriedly, walking past Volaria and out the door.

Volaria heard Hermione casting the ward on the door. The young witch sighed then sat back down, picked up the book and started reading from where she left off.

Hermione moved quickly through the castle and out on to the grounds, walking double-time. Hagrid gave her a friendly shout as he saw her walking toward the main gate. He had a large burlap sack flung over his huge shoulder and it was wriggling wildly. The gods only knew what kind of creature he had got hold of this time.

Hermione let herself through the gate, warded it back and quickly disapparated.

She hoped she could catch the wizard in time.

* * *

Draco showed up at the Music Symposium at twelve o'clock with a very greasy bag of fish and chips only to find that Malina had been fired.

"But that's no reason for you to stop dropping by," Clarissa said cheekily to the scowling wizard. "We have quite the selection here."

Clarissa drew in a breath that made her chest balloon a bit. Draco eyed her display, completely unimpressed.

"Did she say where she was going?" Draco asked Clarissa, ignoring her pass at him.

"No, she just took her money and left," Clarissa replied, scowling a little at the wizard's apparent thickness. Didn't he know when a witch was coming on to him?

Without another word Draco exited the shop, Clarissa looking after him. He left the greasy bag he carried on the counter. Clarissa peeked into it. Ooh, fish and chips. Still hot.

She settled down on the stool behind the counter and began to eat the food right out of the bag, considering Malina and the wizard who had just left, more than likely in search of her.

Clarissa always thought Malina was rather odd, with all the black mugglish clothes she wore, and lack of proper robes for the most part. Even her lipstick was black most of the time, and she had a…a…tattoo. She didn't seem suitable for someone like Draco Malfoy. Not in the least.

Naturally nosey, Clarissa had been curious to know if Malina was dating Draco…he was aristocracy after all and a pureblood. Clarissa was a bit of a bigot concerning muggle-borns, though she didn't openly disparage them. She asked the dark witch about it but Malina said he was just her part-time employer, and he only came by to tell her when she was needed to do backup at the studio.

Clarissa didn't believe the lie. He could send a toady to tell her something like that. Plus the way Draco would look at Malina sometimes suggested his interest was more than work-related. Well, it could be that he was just interested in the muggle-born as a plaything. Aristocrats often slummed, keeping woman that were unsuitable to their social status on the side. It was easier for Clarissa to accept that was the way of it between Malina and Draco than their having an actual relationship. Hell, she wouldn't mind being Draco Malfoy's plaything. There were bound to be perks. Jewelry, dinners, things of that nature. She wouldn't mind that at all.

Clarissa sighed. It wasn't going to happen. She had hinted at the wizard her willingness to engage him more than once, but he didn't bite. There was no accounting for taste.

The moment Draco left the shop, he pulled out the tracking parchment.

"Track," he said to it.

A map appeared. It was a park, Shropshire Gardens. Malina's footsteps were stationary. She must be sitting someplace. Draco walked to the closest public apparition point. He wanted to talk to the witch and find out what she was going to do.

Draco was so concerned about Malina he failed to realize she was going to want to know how he found her.

* * *

Hermione was so intent on catching up to Severus, she didn't bother apparating to a public point, but appeared very close to Rosier's shop. Unfortunately, an Auror happened to be passing and caught her apparating in a non-designated area.

The wizard pulled out his ticket pad, and took down her information, his blue eyes focused on her attentively as she gave her name, address and place of employ. Aurors were trained to notice subtle reactions that indicated untruths. He pulled off the piece of parchment and handed it to Hermione. She read his name. Justice Forall.

Her mouth quirked.

Justice noticed it and scowled a bit.

"You know, apparating the way you did could have seriously injured someone. There's a reason we have public apparition points," he chided her. "Now, you can either pay the ten galleon fine, or appear in court to challenge it. It's up to you, Miss…"

He looked at his pad again.

"Granger," he concluded, narrowing his eyes.

If she did challenge it, he'd be in court to say he witnessed the illegal apparition first hand, which would result in an even larger fine if she were found guilty.

"I understand," Hermione said, her mouth still quirked at the ridiculous name, "I'll pay the fine."

"See that you do," Justice said bad-naturedly, hating his American father's sense of patriotism once again. He stalked off, Hermione looking after him, smiling despite her ticket.

"Justice Forall. Oh gods, that's funny," she said to herself as she walked toward Rosier's shop, shaking her head, "Americans."

She walked up to the shop door, took a deep breath, opened it and walked in. There was no one behind the counter. Suddenly a door behind the counter opened and Rosier walked in.

"Good morning. May I help you?" he asked Hermione, his eyes washing over her. She didn't look rich. One had to be rich to shop here.

Hermione blinked up at him, her eyes shifting to the slightly cracked door behind him.

"I'd like to look at a charm, for my bracelet," she said.

Severus, who had just given Rosier the elixir, stiffened as he heard Hermione's voice. What was the witch doing here? Was she mad? If Rosier got a look at that bracelet…

"Do you have the bracelet with you?" he asked.

"No. I don't…but I know what I want. A golden lion, snarling," Hermione said.

A golden lion?

"Possibly, if you describe the bracelet to me, I'd have a better idea of what I will be working with," he said a bit suspiciously now. Did the bracelet have silver snakes as well?

Severus glided to the door, pulled it open a bit and scowled at Hermione, shaking his head.

"It's gold link with lions all around it…about seven of them. I just want to add another one," she said.

Rosier relaxed. It wasn't the same bracelet he'd given Snape. Severus disappeared back into the office.

"Well, Miss…a charm would have to be specially designed. We don't keep them in a box," he said a bit disdainfully, "In order to have one designed you would have to leave a non-refundable deposit of five hundred galleons."

Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"Five hundred galleons?" she repeated with a squeak.

"Yes. Then I will design a charm for you. After a satisfactory design is completed, the other five hundred is to be paid upon delivery," he said to her, looking bored. The witch couldn't afford this…she was wasting her time.

"Might I suggest Heggly Jeweler's down the road? His prices are modest compared to mine, though as far as quality, you get what you pay for," he said.

"Er…yes. Maybe I will try them. Thank you," Hermione said, glancing at the open door for a quick moment. Hopefully Severus would come out and meet her outside. "Have a good morning."

She exited the shop, walked down the street a ways then waited on the corner, hoping the wizard would come. He didn't look too pleased to see her.

Severus wasn't. He more than likely could have found a way to explain Hermione having the bracelet. He could have told Rosier she was his slave, and he found ways to feed his libido other than intercourse. Oh, she would have loved that. But then, most likely Rosier would expect him to bind and whip women at the revel. Well, in any case the witch hadn't blown his cover, thank the gods. Why was she here?

Rosier stalked back into the office, scowling.

"The moment I saw that mudblood I knew she was in the wrong shop," he said, frowning. "Really, I wish I didn't have to serve them. They leave a bad taste in my mouth."

For some reason, pureblood witches and wizards could identify muggle-born wizards and witches almost immediately, though there was no discernable difference or sign hovering over their heads that said "Born of Muggles." This ability was first brought to Hermione's attention by Draco Malfoy at the Quidditch World Cup back in their fourth year. He told Hermione that the Death Eaters would know she was a muggle-born and target her if they saw her.

Severus didn't say anything, though inwardly he was scowling. That was his witch Rosier was insulting. One would think he'd be desensitized to such comments since he'd heard them all of his life, but it rankled him anyway.

"Now, Severus, we've decide that no Unforgivables will be allowed to be used during the competition. Firstly, because there is no defense against the Killing curse and the quickest would be declared the winner when it could be luck and not skill. We want battles after all," Rosier said.

"We have a total of twenty-six competitors, nineteen wizards and seven witches. They will be taking an oath to lock themselves into the competition, so no one can bow out at the last minute. The initial pairing off will be done at random, thirteen contestants drawing names from a hat, and having two days to prepare to meet with their opponent. We have decided to have the competition at Pumblebrook's manor. The revel room will be rearranged to be suitable. There will be no revels during the competition since we want everyone focused," Rosier said, "When we have a winner, you will administer the elixir."

"When will the first competition begin?" Severus asked the wizard.

"In two weeks," Rosier said, "Eight o'clock, Friday evening. The drawing will be Wednesday night. The survivors will be assigned their next opponents and meet with them the following week. The survivors of that meeting will meet again the following week. The final competition will be the week after. A winner will be chosen and a week later you will administer the elixir."

Severus nodded.

Rosier gave him a smile.

"There is to be a revel at my manor tonight…plenty of food and special entertainment," the wizard said, swelling a bit, "I've acquired a pair of muggle lions, and have been starving them. Muggles are on the main menu. I haven't decided whether or not I will give them weapons yet. In either case, I'd be delighted if you would stay a few days, Severus. You haven't been about in a while and I know you have an assistant at Hogwarts."

"I'd be delighted to stay, Rosier. I could use a break," Severus replied.

"Excellent. Now, would you like a bit of wine or a firewhiskey?" Rosier offered.

"No. Too early for me, Rosier. I do need to take care of a bit of business before tonight however," the wizard said, rising.

Rosier stood too and shook Severus' hand firmly, then picked up the bottle of elixir on his desk.

"Thank you Severus. I am sure whoever becomes the Dark Lord will place you in a position of power because of your help," the jeweler said.

"I look forward to that," Severus lied. "I will be at your manor around seven."

"Until then," Rosier said, walking Severus through the door and watching him leave the shop. He looked at the bottle in his hand. So much power beneath the stopper. And the possibility of death as well. A braver wizard might have been tempted to drink the elixir himself, the hell with the competition. But Rosier wasn't that brave.

He walked back into his office, opened a panel in the wall and placed the bottle inside, closing the panel back and warding it securely.

It wouldn't be long now.

* * *

Severus strode down the sidewalk and saw Hermione immediately. She turned toward him but he acted as if he didn't see her.

"Meet me in the back room at the Hogs Head Inn in fifteen minutes," he hissed as he strode by her to the public apparition point and disapparated.

Hermione hovered about for another ten minutes before she too disapparated.

* * *

Aberforth Dumbledore was cleaning a glass with a disgusting bar rag behind the bar when the door opened and a disillusion person entered. Not surprised by this, the brother of Albus Dumbledore watched the shimmer approach him. Three galleons appeared on the bar.

"I need the use of your back room," Severus said. "I am expecting a guest."

"Go ahead," Aberforth replied, taking the coins and depositing them in his robes pocket.

Still disillusioned, Severus walked to the back room, opened the door and entered. There were only one or two patrons in the inn, and no one paid attention to the door opening and closing. It was best to mind your own business at the Hogs Head.

Severus entered the room which was furnished with a table, two chairs, an armchair, a dresser, a bathroom and a beaten up twin sized bed. Aberforth kept clean sheets on it however. The back room often doubled as a meeting place for lovers. It was here that Albus interviewed Sybil Trelawney and first saw the Prophecy. It was also here that Severus overheard the first half of the Prophecy and reported it to Voldemort.

He regretted his decision from that day to this. His information resulted in the death of Lily Potter. Severus had been horrified to learn about her death and it was the one time Lord Voldemort tried to apologize to the dark wizard. He tried to give Lily a choice because he knew Severus had feelings for her. But the witch wouldn't give up her son, so the Dark Lord killed her. Severus' anger and guilt about Lily's death was the true turning point of his allegiance. He never forgave the Dark Lord for killing her and became bent upon his destruction. This was another reason he hated to even see Harry. Every time he came near him, it was as if he were looking into Lily's eyes. It was a constant reminder to the Potions Master how he had caused his mother's death. If Severus Snape had ever loved anyone other than Hermione Granger, it was Lily Potter, despite her choice of James Potter. Severus had never approached her. His was a quiet, obsessive love.

But that part of his life was dry bones and dust now. He had avenged Lily as best he could, and life was for the living. Hermione had his heart now, as aggravating as she was, and it was Hermione he waited for now, sitting down at the table, his dark eyes focused on the door expectantly. What the hell had she been thinking?

* * *

Malina was sitting on a park bench, reading the want ad and circling possibilities with the tip of her wand. Suddenly she had the feeling she wasn't alone. She leapt up and spun, pulling her wand and pointing it directly between Draco's gray eyes, which crossed.

Malina sighed and lowered her wand.

"Draco, I hate when you sneak up on me," she said, bending to pick up the scattered Prophet then sitting down on the bench again, Draco walking around it to join her. He sat down. Malina got the paper back in proper order then looked up at him, her eyes narrowed.

"Draco, are you having me followed or something? If you are, I don't appreciate it. It's creepy," she said to him.

"No, I'm not having you followed," he said, "If I were, those goons would have never taken you last night."

Malina thought about that. He was right. If Draco had someone watching her, most likely they would have protected her from Wooten and Fredrick. But something was going on.

"How did you find me here? The truth, Draco…or I swear I will disappear," she said evenly.

Draco fought back a smirk. As long as she wore that ring she wouldn't be disappearing anyplace he couldn't find her…if it wasn't warded that is. He glanced down at the paper in her hands, reading what she had circled.

"Wanted: Waitress. Apply at Hog Head Inn. Report to Aberforth Dumbledore. Wear Something Short."

"What?" Draco spluttered as Malina looked at him with cool eyes, "A waitress at the Hogs Head? Malina…you can't be serious. You'd leave that place with handprints all over your bum and thighs every single night!"

He pulled the paper out of her hands, scowling as he read a few of the other jobs she had circled.

"Stock Girl Wanted. Cedric's Sex Emporium. Must not be allergic to Latex."

"Leech Collector. No experience necessary. Must be in excellent health, love water and have good blood flow."

Other ads were circled, all equally as horrible.

"Malina, are you insane? You can't work in any of these places!" Draco seethed, his face contorted. "A stock girl at a sex shop? Collecting leeches with your bare legs in a swamp? And ESCORT??? Malina, you will be doing more than escorting wizards, believe me. You don't make three hundred galleons a night clutching a wizard's arm!"

Draco had on occasion used the "A Witch in Time Escort Service" and knew what he was talking about. The witches were beautiful but extremely accommodating.

"Draco, I just circled them. It didn't mean I was actually going to try and get a job with any of them. They were just possibles," she said.

Draco tore the want ad section into little itty-bitty pieces.

"Now they're impossibles," he said to the witch.

Malina shook her head.

"Draco, I have to get a job. I don't do enough backup singing to pay for my flat," she said.

"I'll pay for it. I'm rich, remember?" he said, "Hell, I'll pay for anything you need Malina. You don't have to work."

Malina eyed him.

"Oh…so I could be your 'kept' woman, eh Draco? You could just 'drop by' any time for a quickie, and I'd be obligated to service you," she said disparagingly.

Draco frowned at her.

"Malina, you know me better than that," he said, hurt, "I'm only trying to offer you a solution."

Malina sighed. She knew Draco was just trying to be helpful. In his world, galleons were the answer to everything. But not in hers. Working and being self-sufficient was important to Malina, and made her feel secure and not in anyone's debt.

Malina was an artist. Instead of attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she attended a school for the Performing Arts. Learning magical spells was part of the curriculum, but the focus was on the arts rather than academics. There had to be some artists in the world after all. But not everyone was meant to be a star. Not everyone had the temperament for it.

Yet, Malina could be a star if she wanted to, but the witch was socially introverted, the polar opposite of her lover. She liked peace and spending time alone with herself, writing. She could be a songwriter as well, if she didn't take everything she wrote so personally, unwilling to hand her work over to others to change and…well…abuse.

She also rebelled against what was considered common conventions in the wizarding world or even the muggle world. It was not unusual for a rich pureblood to cover his or her lover's bills…in fact much of the time it was expected. A rich wizard keeping one or more mistresses was acceptable in fact. But Malina was more than a mistress to Draco. She was the only witch he was involved with. Before her, he went through witches like water. He really did just want to help her.

To Malina, it would mean he controlled her and would actually make her dependent on him. The witch didn't want to have to depend on anyone in that manner. She did have another option though. She hadn't told Draco about it, because she hadn't really considered doing it, until now. Maybe she should give it some thought.

"Draco," she said softly, "I'm sorry. I know you're only trying to be helpful. But I need to feel I'm making my own way through the world, not being supported by someone else."

"But I'm here to support you Malina, in all ways. You're in a rough place right now. I just want to be here for you," the wizard said earnestly, his gray eyes sincere.

The witch gave him a soft smile.

"You're always here for me Draco," she replied, "But it's important to me that I make it on my own. A lot of artists are like that."

"Most successful artists I know have patrons," Draco said, "People who put up money so they are free to pursue their art. Malina, you have a marvelous voice. You could be as big as 'Dirty Magic,'" he told her. "I'd gladly be your patron."

Malina took his hand and looked at him soberly.

"It's funny you mentioned 'Dirty Magic' Draco," she said softly, "Miles came to me a couple of weeks ago and asked me to go on tour with them and be their opening act. I said no, because I was working and relatively stable. It would pay well…"

"For how long?" Draco asked her, a cold feeling in his belly.

"Sixteen weeks. Four months," she replied her dark eyes resting on his face, "I think…I think I should go. The pay is very good and I'll have a few galleons in my pockets when I come back. Plus, I am a singer, Draco. I spent most of my life studying my art and I've been doing very little with it."

"Sixteen weeks," Draco repeated, "That sounds like forever, Malina."

He wasn't going to discourage her, though he really didn't want the witch to leave him for that long.

"It's not, Draco. It really isn't," she said.

Draco scowled.

"With my luck, you'll probably fall in love with the drummer or something," he groused.

"Ewww! Are you crazy? Have you seen the drummer? No. No one has…because he's covered in hair!" Malina said, her nose wrinkling.

"Well, the lead singer then," Draco said jealously.

"Who? Miles? No chance of that happening Draco…I've known him for years. We went to school together. He's not my type," she said to the wizard.

"I wasn't your type either," Draco said glumly.

"Draco, I'm not interested in anyone other than you. You should know that by now," she said to the wizard softly, "I'll still feel that way when I come back."

Draco frowned, thinking about all the wild parties musicians engaged in. All the alcohol and wizarding drugs passed around. Someone could slip Malina something.

"I'm not trying to discourage you Malina, but if you go…I'll miss you," he said, meaning it. Malina was the most real person in his life.

Yes, he had associates, but no one like her. It was more than being sexually involved with the witch, he connected with her. They could talk about more than the usual social fluff he was subjected to. They could talk about life, or not even speak at all, finding comfort and companionship just being with each other. He would miss that. It grounded him.

"I'll miss you too, Draco," she said softly, "I'll take a magic mirror with me so we can talk while I'm traveling from gig to gig. Would that help?"

Draco nodded. Yes, being able to stay in contact with her would help. He felt lonely already. Very lonely. Suddenly, he wanted to bring Malina to the Manor and spend as much time as he could with her until she left.

"Malina…if you go, would you stay with me at the Manor until you actually leave? You're going to move out of your flat I imagine. I could keep your things in storage for you," he said to her, "Plus it would give us time…I want to memorize every part of you before you leave me."

Malina stared at him for several moments. She could see the sadness in his eyes and appreciated him not trying to stop her from touring. She would miss him too.

"I guess I could do that, Draco," she said. "They aren't leaving for a week."

Draco took her hands in his and kissed the back of each gently.

"Thank you, Malina," he said to her, his eyes grateful. He stood up, pulling her to her feet, his eyes washing over her, already in memory mode.

"Draco?" Malina said softly.

"Yes, Malina?" he responded, just as softly.

"I'm not moving one damn inch until you tell me how the hell you keep finding me!" she snapped, snatching her hands away from him and placing them on her hips.

"Shit," Draco thought, preparing himself for her wrath.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	8. Part 8

**A Song for Severus Part 8**

Hermione arrived at the Hog's Head Inn, looking a bit apprehensive as she entered. It wasn't the most reputable place of business, especially over the past few years. There were only two patrons sitting at the tables. Hermione's nose wrinkled. The inn always had the distinct odor of goat.

Aberforth looked at the witch from behind the bar and could tell she was here for a reason. Probably a quick shag.

"Back there," he growled at Hermione, pointing to the door that led to the back room.

Hermione thanked him and tentatively walked toward the room, opened the door and entered. She saw Severus sitting at a small table and her eyes wandered around the room. It was like a little motel room with a bed and dresser. The Potions Master looked at her steadily, saying nothing as the witch pulled out a chair and sat down across from him.

The wizard's eyes glinted at her. He was very displeased, she could tell.

"Severus…" she began.

The wizard suddenly pulled out his wand and seemed to point it straight at Hermione. He cast a ward on the door and a silencing spell before returning the wand to his robes pocket. Severus leveled his dark eyes on her.

"Explain to me why you came to Rosier's and almost blew my cover," the wizard said in a low, intense voice. "I said my goodbye to you at Hogwarts."

"I…I needed to talk to you," Hermione replied in a small voice.

"You could have talked to me when I returned, Hermione. You see, this is why I kept you in the dark…to keep you from interfering in my work," the wizard seethed at her. "You put us both in danger, Hermione. There's no excuse for that. None."

"But Severus…I felt it important enough to follow you," Hermione said, "I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry."

Severus looked at her coldly.

"Guilt brought you here, not remorse," he replied evenly. "You came here to ease your own conscience, not to make reparations to me. You are a selfish, controlling witch, Hermione. But you need not worry that will make me think less of you. As a Slytherin I understand selfishness and the need for control."

Hermione looked at her lover. Was that what he really thought of her? But, she did act as if she belonged in Slytherin house lately.

"No Severus. I had a bit of time to think, and I truly am sorry. I've become very controlling in our relationship, very thick-headed, unreasonable…"

"Disrespectful," Severus added silkily, his eyes washing over her.

"Yes, disrespectful too. I am trying to make all the rules in this relationship. I didn't give you a chance to say anything before I arbitrarily cut you off. I used your desire for me as a weapon, as a way to punish you…and I shouldn't have done that. We should have talked instead of me just turning you out of my bed as if telling you to go stand in a corner someplace until I say you can come out. I am treating you like a child as much as you are doing to me," Hermione said, "I just wanted to let you know I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm going to change and be more reasonable. I'm going to try and be more understanding. You've made changes for me and I've started taking you for granted. I'm so sorry for that, Severus. I'm sorry for everything. I truly am."

Severus stared at her for several moments, then sighed.

"It's not all your fault, Hermione. I indulge you too much. I let you get away with murder. You act like a spoiled child much of the time, throwing tantrums and attacking me. Instead of taking you to task and correcting you…I enjoy your fits of anger and goad you on because it gives me pleasure that I can make you snap," the wizard said, his lip quirking slightly, "and we both know when I do finally get down to 'correcting' you, I treat our little confrontations like foreplay. It's just that I've never had a fiery, temperamental witch of my own and I enjoy taming you. I never manage to do it for long, however…which appeals to me as well. I never grow tired of you. It makes sense that you would target my desire for you in order to get the upper hand and 'tame' me for a change. It is something you know that affects me deeply. You have truly been Slytherinized."

Hermione stared at him. He was right. Severus never even tried to talk to her when she was upset. He simply let her go at him and she had become used to that. And to the aftermath. There were never any real solutions…just mind-blowing sex and a temporary truce because of it. They did talk sometimes, but those were sober, peaceful moments to start with.

"We're going to have to mature, Severus. Both of us," Hermione said to him.

Severus nodded soberly.

"Not too much, I hope," he said silkily, "I happen to like our foreplay. Nothing like a little pain to get my…dander up."

Severus loved tussling with Hermione. She was a wildcat when angry, and would kick, bite, pull hair and hit him with whatever she could get her hands on. Of course, he never really tried to hurt her or restrain her, he just loved how he calmed her afterward with stroke after stroke until she folded to her passion for him and the mouth that cursed him only moments before would whisper words of love. That did it for the wizard every time.

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"I'll still try to crack your head open from time to time," she said softly.

"A sign of true love," the wizard crooned at her.

Yes, the couple was a bit dysfunctional…but it was their dysfunction and it worked for them.

The couple stared at each other in silence, Hermione very aware that Severus would be gone for an unknown period of time. The wizard was also thinking he would be away from her.

"So, am I still cut off, witch?" Severus asked Hermione quietly.

"No. I've changed my mind about that. It was unfair. You told me why you did what you did, Severus, and I can understand it from your point of view. I would have been climbing the walls just like you said. I'm probably going to be climbing the walls when I return to Hogwarts too. I'm scared for you. I'm always scared for you," she said softly.

"I've been doing this a long time, Hermione. I have no intentions on being snuffed out by Death Eaters. If there is any snuffing to be done, I'll be the one doing it," the wizard said to her.

Again a heavy silence fell between them. Then Severus stood up.

"I need to go, Hermione. I have things I need to do before I show up at Rosier's tonight,' he said to her.

"Rosier's? His manor?" Hermione asked.

Severus nodded. Hermione was a member of the Order now. He could tell her what he was going to do.

"There's a revel tonight with special entertainment. I am to be Rosier's guest for the next few days," the wizard said darkly.

"A revel…oh Severus. That's horrible," Hermione said, knowing that meant he would most likely be casting the Killing curse on the poor victims.

"That's my life, Hermione, until we can finally round them all up. But Bella has to make her move first," Severus replied. He started walking toward the door. Hermione stood up and blocked his path. Her eyes met his.

"I don't want to part like this," she said in a soft voice.

The Potions Master looked down at her. He had expected the witch to do something like this. He looked at her.

"I have to go, Hermione," he said softly, trying to walk around the witch. She pressed into him.

"I owe you an apology," she said, emphasizing the word "apology." "I've been a bad witch, Severus." She moved against him a little and felt the wizard pulse despite himself. "Don't you think I've been a bad witch?"

Severus scowled down at her. She was trying to seduce him…here…in the Hog's Head Inn. The minx.

"Yes, you've been a bad witch…but I wouldn't put you in that ratty bed for anything, Hermione. Besides, this isn't the proper place…" he said, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself more than the witch.

"And Grimauld Place was?" she asked him.

Severus looked down at Hermione…her eyes were hot and her lips parted.

"Stop tempting me! I have things to do witch!" Severus hissed at her, pushing her away from him in a temper.

"Once before you leave me, Severus. That's all I'm asking you," Hermione said to him.

The Potions Master's nostrils flared.

Suddenly, Hermione walked away from him, walking over to the wall next to the curtained window. She placed both her hands against it, then leaned her forehead forward, resting it against the wall as well, pushing her hips back, then standing there quietly.

Severus' robes began to tent as he looked at her position.

"You are a wicked, seducing little witch," he suddenly snarled at her, striding over to the witch and pressing his loins against her buttocks harshly. Hermione could feel his erection and let out a moan, pressing back against him. Severus didn't move for a moment, his dark eyes resting on her.

"Fine," he said darkly, pulling back from her, unbuttoning the lower part of his robes quickly, then undoing his belt and trousers beneath. "You want me to take you against a wall before I leave, witch…I'll take you."

Hermione felt the wizard lift her robes over her back and heard him let out a little curse as he saw her jeans.

"At least you could have worn a skirt," he hissed, reaching under her roughly and unsnapping her jeans and yanking them down along with her knickers. The scent of her arousal hit him full blast as he bent, pulling her clothing down her thighs.

The wizard straightened with a growl and tugged his own trousers and boxers down around his calf, his organ springing out. Without hesitation he plunged deep into Hermione with a grunt, gripping her waist tightly as she let out a cry. He started stroking the witch fast and hard, pulling her into him.

"This is what you wanted?" he groaned at her as her heat and wetness caressed him. The witch was so turned on his member was squishing through her juices. "You little succubus. Take it then!"

Severus took Hermione violently, the witch crying out as he placed his hands on the wall and bent his knees, driving upward, lifting the witch up on her toes and ramming into her softness until Hermione keened and melted around him. The wizard didn't try to hold back, but followed her over the precipice, slamming into Hermione with a growl, bending over her and clutching her close as he fired inside her, his hips continuing to thrust slightly as his pulsing eased. Then he moved her hair aside and kissed her throat gently.

"I am too weak for you, Hermione Granger. You may well be the death of me," he breathed into the gasping witch's ear before he straightened and withdrew, pulling out his wand and scourgifying her before fixing her clothing. He then cleansed himself and fixed his own clothing, Hermione watching him with glistening eyes.

Severus finished straightening himself out, then looked down at Hermione…his eyes softening. He leaned and gave her a soft, lingering kiss on her mouth.

"Return to Hogwarts, witch and work on your project. I will return to you in a few days. Keep an eye on the Riddle witch as well. Don't trust her," he said, disillusioning himself.

Hermione felt the shimmer kiss her again, then the door opened and Severus walked through, exiting the inn.

After about five minutes, Hermione followed. Aberforth leered at her from behind the bar.

"I guess I need to change the bedsheets," he said to Hermione as she passed.

Hermione scowled at him.

"The bedsheets are fine," she replied huffily, exiting the inn also.

Dumbledore's brother was horrible. Just horrible. The old goat-lover.

Aberforth put down the filthy glass he was making even filthier with his dirty bar rag, walked from behind the bar and into the room. He looked around. Yes, the bed had been untouched. The old wizard sniffed delicately then grinned lasciviously. The witch may not have been taken to the mattress...

...but the room still smelled of sexual activity.

Aberforth took another deep breath, filling his lungs with the aroma of sex. He missed it.

"Gods, to be young again," he sighed, pulling out his wand and casting a freshening smell.

It was ready for the next patron.

* * *

Severus walked several blocks away from the Hogs Head before stepping into an alley and removing his disillusionment spell. His shimmer received curious looks from passersby, but it wasn't uncommon. Only Aurors took an overt interest. Still, it wasn't illegal to move about that way.

As he walked to the nearest public apparition point, Severus felt damn good. Hermione always seemed to know what he needed, even when he wasn't exactly sure himself. And he needed what she gave him at the inn, just the way it happened. Severus was the kind of man who held his emotions in check, finding his release and satisfaction in physical expression. He understood what was going on between himself and Hermione and knew they had to work on their relationship, particularly if they were to take the next step and bind themselves together for the rest of their lives. He didn't expect perfection, but a relationship that worked for both of them.

Still, the witch walking to that wall and positioning herself for sex was overwhelming to him…much better than anything else she could have said to him. He couldn't resist her offer…her willingness to submit as proof of her commitment to him.

So he fucked her, and was glad he did. That memory of taking her would help him in the days to come.

The wizard stepped into the designated apparition area and disapparated.

* * *

Draco had come through Malina's browbeating relatively unscathed, though his ears still burned, and he had to retrieve the necklace several times before he pointed out to the irate witch that if he hadn't given her the ring she would be dead now. It was the only way he found out she had been abducted. This sobered the witch, and after some coaxing, she returned the necklace to her throat and promised Draco she would wear it constantly while on the road.

He brought Malina to the Manor and they had a light lunch, then retired to his study where they engaged in a bit of heavy kissing and petting, Draco murmuring over and over how much he was going to miss her as their passion intensified. Malina had just undone the buckle of his trousers, the wizard resting back against the arm of the sofa, his gray eyes smoldering and chest rising and falling rapidly as she lowered his zipper when the house elf winked in.

Startled, Malina straightened guiltily, turning bright red. If the creature had just waited a minute longer, he would have been treated to quite an eyeful.

"I is sorry, Master Draco. You has a guest," the elf said with its ears flattened to its head.

Draco scowled at the creature as he fixed his clothing, Malina still looking quite embarrassed.

"From here on out, all elves are to knock before entering my presence when I have a guest," he seethed at the little creature.

"Yes, my Lord," the elf squeaked, bowing apologetically, "Should I lets him in?"

"In a moment. Escort Malina to my library," Draco said, helping Malina up from the sofa and kissing her apologetically, "Whoever it is, I'll get rid of him quickly. Wait for me."

Malina nodded then followed the house elf through the study and out the rear door.

Draco scowled as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair. Whoever this was, they had horrible timing.

Presently the house elf returned through the main door, followed by Severus. Draco was surprised to see the tall, pale Potions Master. They usually met up at Hogwarts.

"Professor," Draco said, walking toward him and extending his hand.

Severus took it and shook it firmly.

"Draco," he said by way of greeting, "I hope I didn't arrive at an inopportune moment."

He thought Draco looked just a tad bit frustrated when he entered.

"No, Professor," Draco lied, "Please have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Eat?"

Severus shook his head and sat down in one of two armchairs resting before the fireplace. Draco took the other and looked at the wizard expectantly.

Severus launched right in to his reason for being there.

"I am going to the revel tonight, Draco, as Rosier's guest and will be spending several days there. I delivered the elixir to him today. The competition will be beginning soon. I wanted to give you the details as Rosier gave them to me, and ask that you attend tonight's revel. You do not have to stay, but in case Bella and Voltaire put in an appearance I would like to have an ally with me," the dark wizard said.

Draco frowned slightly. He had wanted to spend as much time as possible with Malina before she left on tour. But if the Potions Master felt he needed him…

"At Rosier's manor?" the blonde wizard asked.

"Yes," Severus replied.

"I'll be there," Draco said, "Now what is happening with the competition?"

Severus proceeded to tell him.

* * *

Malina wandered around Draco's huge library, looking at all the titles. Books covered every wall from floor to ceiling, and there were globes, maps and antiques of all types scattered around the room.

A beautiful mahogany writing desk sat in the corner, parchment and quills resting on top of it. Malina strolled over and sat down in the heavily cushioned chair behind the desk, running her hands over the gleaming desktop appreciatively. Draco owned some beautiful things. Malina stared at the quills and parchment for a moment, her heart full. Slowly, she drew a sheet of parchment over and removed a quill from the stand it rested in. She opened a bottle of ink, dipped the quill and began to write.

Severus' and Draco's meeting lasted about an hour and a half. The two wizards parted ways, agreeing to meet up at Rosier's that evening about nine. The revel would be well on its way by then. Draco was sickened by the information that Rosier intended to feed muggles to starved lions for entertainment, and thought it might be fitting to throw him to the beasts under the guise of an accident, an errant wand flick perhaps that resulted in a misstep that sent him tumbling into the pit.

Severus knew how he felt, but the truth were they were both once again regulated to being impotent observers, the greater picture more important than the smaller strokes of depravity that made it up. Perhaps they could get away with a killing curse or two when it was clear the poor victims wouldn't survive the attacks. That was the best they could hope for.

Malina finished writing her song, and when she heard footsteps approaching, quickly slid the parchment into the top drawer of Draco's desk. She had some tweaking to do on it and knew Draco would insist on reading the lyrics before she was ready to share them. She'd retrieve the song later. Malina hurriedly replaced the quill in the stand and ink bottle in its original position, standing up when Draco entered the library.

"I'm sorry that took so long. Business," Draco said to the witch as she walked from around the desk, "I hope you weren't too bored."

"No. I was fine, Draco," Malina said as the wizard walked up to her and slipped his arms around her waist.

"How about a walk around the grounds?" the wizard asked her.

"Yes, that would be nice," Malina said, kissing him lightly.

When she pulled away, Draco's eyes were hot. She smiled at him.

"Now Draco…that was just a peck on the lips. That couldn't have turned you on," she said to him as the wizard tightened his hold on her.

"It didn't turn me on," he purred, "I never turned off."

Then he kissed her hungrily.

They never did get around to taking that walk.

* * *

Hermione returned to Hogwarts feeling vindicated. She promised herself when the Potions Master returned she would really make an effort to improve the way she treated him. For just a moment, she had felt it was possible she could lose him. She had never thought about that before…only about her leaving him. The statement he made about not allowing his desire for her to punish him made her realize that he could walk away rather than be hurt or controlled by her.

Gods, she didn't want that.

She removed the wards to her rooms to find Volaria asleep in the same armchair she had been reading in earlier. An empty plate and glass rested on the table beside her. She must have had lunch. Hermione tip-toed by her and into her bedroom, where she changed her clothes, still feeling Severus' ache as she did so. He had been very ardent…almost angry that she seduced him in such a way. Hermione smiled to herself wickedly. She loved the fact she could sway him that way.

Hermione slipped on her lab coat, tied her hair back in a ponytail and walked back through the study to find Volaria awake and blinking at her.

"You're back," she said, taking in her lab coat, "Did you take care of whatever it was you had to go do?"

"Yes, I did. And did you have a nice lunch?" Hermione asked.

Volaria nodded.

"I had pizza. I never had it before…it was delicious," the witch said, "I could eat it every day for every meal."

Hermione laughed.

"Well, you won't be doing that, young lady. You have to eat balanced meals. I'll be ordering dinner tonight, and you will be having a healthy portion of vegetables."

Volaria made a face.

"Just no green beans. I loathe green beans," the young witch said.

Loathe?

Hermione chuckled.

"All right, no green beans," she agreed.

Volaria relaxed, then looked at Hermione curiously.

"What kind of project are you working on, Hermione?" the witch asked her.

Hermione looked at the young witch for a moment.

"It's confidential, Volaria. I can't tell you that. All I can say is that it is very important," she said.

"I understand. I was just curious," Volaria replied, though her face dropped.

Volaria had hoped it was something ordinary and that maybe Hermione would let her come with her. But that wasn't going to happen.

Hermione studied her.

"I know you're a bit bored, Volaria, but you won't be for long. You are going to have plenty to do…like learn how to use a wand. That will take a lot of focus and be very challenging," Hermione said.

"A wand? Really?" Volaria asked her excitedly.

"Yes. Someone is going to have to take you to Diagon Alley to Ollivander's and let you select one. It is better if no one knows you can do wandless magic. Most who can, hide it from general knowledge. It is more effective that way," Hermione told her, "And in addition, I am relatively sure there are areas in your education that aren't up to par for your age, so most likely you will have to bone up on your studies as well before you can attend classes. So this is just the calm before the storm. Life is going to get much more interesting for you if you can just be patient."

Volaria smiled. It really was going to be more interesting.

"Well, I need to get to work, Volaria. I will be back around five…then we'll do a bit of evaluation on your magical knowledge. All right?" Hermione asked the witch.

"Oh yes," Volaria breathed.

"See you later," Hermione said, then exited her rooms, warding the door with her signature as Severus instructed. Volaria seemed to be a sweet young girl, but maybe the Potions Master was right about the need for caution. Better safe than sorry.

Hermione descended to the subdungeons and into the hall leading to her lab. She pushed the door open to find the lab immersed in total darkness. She frowned. She always left a torch burning on low. She pulled out her wand.

"Lumos," she said, the tip of her wand sending off a glow. Hermione looked around in horror. Her lab was in a shambles. Cauldrons, bowls and other equipment lay scattered all over the floor, her notebooks ripped, pages scattered all over. She turned her wand toward the cabinet that held the elixir. It seemed fine.

What the hell happened here? She located the torch sconces, put out her wand then lit the extinguished torches. Immediately she was attacked by a flurry of small blue bodies.

The pixies. They had somehow gotten out of the enclosure and destroyed the lab. Now they were after Hermione.

"Ow!" Hermione cried as the creatures converged on her, pulling her hair, biting at her hands and face and firing little blasts of fire at her as she flailed at them wildly, trying to protect herself.

Several tugged on her wand, trying to get it away from her, but Hermione slapped at them, knocking them away. More flew in to take their place and a few escaped into the hallway, chittering merrily at their newfound freedom.

"Get away from me!" Hermione hissed, trying to focus enough to cast a spell to stop them.

Finally she managed to get into a position to cast one, the pixies trying to soar away as she raised her wand and cast the same freezing charm on the little buggers that she did in Lockhart's class in her second year. The pixies all froze in mid-air, immobilized. She then ran into the hall and froze the escaped pixies as well, directing them back into the lab with her wand, then moving the whole group back into the enclosure. She studied the doorknob. The pixies had fired blasts of heat at the knob until it melted. Well a repelling charm would take care of that. A few reflected sparks would teach them to leave the door alone.

Hermione repaired the door, cast a repelling spell on it, then closed and warded it securely from the outside. The pixies wouldn't be escaping again. She looked on the counter and saw the creatures had removed the cloth that covered a dissected pixie under stasis that had died from the elixir. Hermione wasn't sure how much the little creatures could actually process, but more than likely they just looked on it as a dead comrade and didn't take it any farther than that, much like an animal will nose around a fellow creature then go its way.

Hermione looked around her lab and sighed. She wouldn't be getting any work done today. She walked over to the door that led to the snake pit and checked it. Thank the gods it was still warded. The pixies hadn't managed to get in there.

The witch removed her lab coat, picked up an overturned stool and placed it on top. She then began to gather up her notes, hoping she could repair them. She decided right then she would duplicate her research and put one set away with an update charm so any additions to her notes would be automatically recorded in the second set.

She scowled as she collected the ripped pieces of parchment.

Damned pixies.

* * *

Elizabeth Yaxley read the parchment of competition rules with a frown.

"No Unforgivables? Shit," she breathed.

The blonde, blue-eyed witch took a sip of wine then placed the glass back down on the small table. She was sitting in her parlor and dressed in her work clothes. She had just finished watering and feeding her animals.

Elizabeth had been relying heavily on her quickness with Unforgivables in order to overcome her opponents. She did have an arsenal of painful, ultimately deadly spells, but the Killing curse would have been utilized as her main spell. Damn.

Still she hadn't yet taken the oath binding her to the competition. She could back out…but then, she couldn't get her revenge on Fenrir for raping her. And if the werewolf came into power and became the next Dark Lord, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't use his power to subjugate or even kill her. He was a nasty piece of work.

She had to kill him.

Elizabeth sighed and put the parchment down. She would have to start practicing with other, more powerful spells. Fenrir was a werewolf and recovered from injuries very quickly. He was also physically faster than an ordinary human. She would have to keep her distance from him. Yes, there were other opponents to worry about, but the witch's focus was on the werewolf above anyone else. It was he she wanted to blast from the face of the earth. The witch sighed and made a concerted effort to think of more pleasant endeavors. It wasn't that hard to do considering what she had to look forward to.

Tonight, Rosier was giving a revel. Elizabeth liked to attend his functions. They had real class. Guests used the front entrance to his home, and a ball was held at first. Then they moved to the bowels of the mansion. Unlike Pumbleberry's revels, Rosier provided different areas for certain "entertainments." Also, many of the muggles destined to die came to the Manor under their own steam, invited to attend the ball, completely unaware they would not be leaving. They mingled with the Death Eaters, dancing, eating, conversating and flirting. When the party moved to the lower dungeons, they were then taken, shock and horror on their faces. It was deliciously evil. Rosier had class…real class. He knew how to take terror to a new level.

The wizard was supposed to be providing a very special kind of entertainment tonight, though she had no idea what it was. The last time he did such a thing, it consisted of several muggles chained together, covered in slow-burning tar, hoisted to the ceiling and set on fire. It had been chilling and exciting…their screams continuing for at least twenty minutes before their blackened bodies fell still. Now that…that was entertainment.

Knowing Rosier, he would top that tonight.

The wizard was always thoughtful as well. He made sure muggle men were available as well as muggle women. Pumbleberry didn't seem to care if the female Death Eaters had men to indulge with and torture. They had to fall back on assisting the males with their victims. But not at Rosier's revels. The wizard made sure everyone had someone suitable to enjoy. Elizabeth had been feeling rather tense and was looking forward to a bit of stress release. She might even have a little sex before getting down to business.

The witch sobered. It might well be the last bit of sex she had if Fenrir killed her. Yes, she'd wear a patch. She had been very worried that Fenrir impregnated her, but he hadn't, thank the gods. That would be all she needed, to bear a werewolf's child. No, that wouldn't have happened. Elizabeth would have aborted it quickly and with malice. She wouldn't have felt any guilt about terminating the baby. Something like that should not be allowed to live, innocent or not.

Elizabeth rose and walked into the kitchen to make herself a bite to eat. Then she'd get ready for the night's festivities.

She was really looking forward to it.

* * *

Robert Thatcher stood near the entrance to the tube, dressed in a cap and heavy jacket. He didn't have a suit on today. Next to him stood a rather slim, narrow-eyed, black-haired young man, watching people entering the station closely.

"She gets on at this station," Robert said to the young man, "I want you to follow her and find out where she lives tonight, then tomorrow, find out where she works. There's another hundred pounds in it for you if you do that."

The young man nodded, understanding what was expected of him.

Robert nodded back, his gray eyes watching the doors carefully for Eloise. He had stopped taking the tube after she recognized him, catching the bus instead. It took him longer to get home, but he didn't want to run into her again. At least, not on the tube.

Robert Thatcher had been a thug for years before getting into a program to better himself. Now he had a good job, a home and was respected by his peers. He wasn't about to lose that because of some bird he gave a hard time to years ago. He wasn't going back to jail either. He began to leave work early, checking the tube stations each night. There were only four stops before his and one night he saw Eloise getting on the train. He had to get rid of her before she fingered him for that rape and beating. So he hired this young man to follow her. Once he got the information he needed, he'd take care of the bitch once and for all.

Suddenly Eloise entered the station and Robert stiffened.

"That's her!" he hissed at the young man. "Go. You know where to meet me tomorrow. Remember, another hundred pounds if you find out where she works."

The young man nodded and followed Eloise. Robert watched him until he disappeared into the crowd, then turned and exited the station. He hadn't committed a crime in years, but to him…this was his life he was protecting. He wasn't taking any chances on being caught and locked up because of some trim he helped himself to over a decade ago.

The woman had to disappear.

Eloise had been checking the tube every night since she realized who the gray-eyed man was. She wanted revenge. Personal revenge. Fuck the police. They had their chance. But she hadn't seen him since, and this made her believe he had recognized her too and made himself scarce. The bastard.

Eddie, the young man Robert paid to follow Eloise sat a few seats down, watching her. She wasn't bad-looking for an older bird, but there was something kind of wild in her eyes. He recognized that look because it reflected back at him every time he looked in the mirror. It was the look of someone who didn't mind causing pain. It was rare in a woman. He'd follow her, but keep his distance. Just because she was female didn't mean she couldn't do some damage. He had met some tough bitches in his time. He didn't have a doubt that the bloke who hired him had something against the woman. He clearly saw malice in his eyes as he counted off the hundred pounds he paid for her to be followed. Well, that wasn't his business. He was just trying to make a fast pound or two.

The train stopped and Eloise got off, and Eddie followed her through the rough neighborhood to her apartment. He watched as she unlocked the door and went in. He couldn't follow her…but this was enough information. He looked around and saw some other young men gathered around a barrel where a small fire was burning. They were passing around a bottle. He walked over.

"Mind if a bloke mingles a bit?" he asked one rough looking young man with several hoops dangling from his eyebrow and a lip piercing. The thug looked at him and recognized a fellow troublemaker. He made room for him.

"Come on then. Got a smoke?"

Eddie reached in his pocket and passed out several cigarettes. In turn, the bottle was passed to him. He'd stay here all night and follow Eloise in the morning. Then he'd meet Robert later and collect the rest of his money.

* * *

At seven o'clock, Severus apparated to Rosier's Manor. Crowds of well-dressed people were entering the mansion, greeting each other, smiling and ready to party. House elves collected cloaks and invitations, showing the guests to the ballroom.

Severus gave an elf his invite and entered Rosier's premises, walking down the shining hall into the large ornate ballroom. Tables covered in Slytherin green tablecloths with black and red centerpieces were set up around the perimeter of the space. An orchestra was position on a dais against the far wall. People mingled, murmuring in hushed tones, the muggles among them, unaware of the leering glances the Death Eaters were giving them, or of their over solicitous manner when speaking to them. They were being toyed with and never realized it.

Severus glanced around, looking for Rosier. He saw him seated at a table near the orchestra and strode over. The wizard looked delighted to see him.

"Ah Severus, you made it," Rosier said with a broad smile, rising and shaking the Potions Master's hand firmly, "Please have a seat."

Severus sat down and Rosier waved over a house elf who balanced several glasses of amber liquid on a tray. Rosier selected one, then the elf moved to Severus who also took a drink. He sipped it and rasped slightly. Firewhiskey. Top shelf.

Rosier smiled as he looked at the milling guests.

"An excellent turnout. Tonight promises to be quite entertaining," he said, then his eyes fell on Pumbleberry, who was sitting at a table and scowling. Rosier grinned.

"Pumbleberry hates to be upstaged," he gloated.

"Indeed," Severus agreed.

"Severus, the lions are absolutely ravenous. We had a hell of a time transferring them to the pit. They were so ferocious we had to stun them several times to put them under. They will make a good showing. I've decided to give the muggles basic weapons. Spears and knives. If they manage to kill the beasts, I've decided to let the survivors live. It will be incentive."

Severus absorbed this.

"How many will you place in the pit?" the Potions Master asked him, trying to figure out the odds of the muggles actually killing the lions.

"I believe I will place five in. Three women and two men. I considered adding a couple of children, but that wouldn't be sporting, although interesting. Maybe next time," Rosier said.

"I think it would be more balanced if you added three men and two women," Severus suggested. Rosier shook his head.

"No, that is too much of a sporting chance. I want the lions to win after all. There will be betting as well before the event. You can make yourself a few galleons," Rosier said, taking a sip of his firewhiskey and smiling. "I will be guaranteeing all the bets. At least you can find some enjoyment in the festivities tonight."

Rosier was referring to Severus' supposed impotence.

"Perhaps," the wizard said evenly…the wheels turning in his head. If the muggles killed the lions, they could live.

Perhaps he could find a way to help them.

He would have to wait for Draco to show up and pull him aside. There had to be something they could do.

A slender muggle in a green evening gown walked up to their table. Rosier eyed the attractive red-head with a smirk. Her green eyes rested on Severus.

"Excuse me, sir…but…would you like to dance?" she asked the dark wizard.

Severus looked at the pretty woman. Most likely she'd be dead by morning. Normally he would have declined, but…it would probably be one of her last pleasures in life.

"I'd be delighted," the wizard purred. The woman smiled. The wizard had a beautiful voice. He wasn't handsome, but there was something about him that attracted her attention. She was here to mingle after all.

"Excuse me, Rosier," Severus said, rising and letting the muggle take his arm.

Rosier watched as the woman led Severus on the floor and began to dance with the wizard, the couple gliding around the ballroom as if they had been dancing together all their lives.

"At least he can get some pleasure from a beautiful woman in his arms. No doubt he would get more pleasure fucking the wench to oblivion…but we all have our trials," Rosier thought to himself as he finished his drink. He looked over at Pumbleberry, who was busily drinking down another glass of firewhiskey. He was quickly getting blasted…his way of dealing with the opulence he himself couldn't provide.

Rosier grinned again as he looked at the fat little pervert. Rosier rarely provided children at the revels, though on occasion he did to feed the twisted desires of those whose favor he wanted to cull for one reason or another. But Pumbleberry didn't fall into that category. He'd have to make it a point to approach him sometime tonight and dig the knife in a little deeper.

* * *

Draco finished dressing, his gray eyes resting on Malina, who was asleep in his four-poster. He told the witch he would be gone for several hours but would return and made her promise she would wait for him. They made love several times, Draco's ardor leaving the witch sated and exhausted, finally telling the wizard she'd had enough.

Draco felt as if he had consumed a gallon of lust potion, he was so hot for the witch. Of course it was her upcoming absence that made him take her the way he did. It was as if he were trying to imprint himself in her psyche.

Draco leaned over and kissed Malina softly on the mouth. He darted back as the witch swung her hand at him in her sleep. He grinned. She was trying to keep him off her. Well, no doubt he would need her when he returned from the revel. Hopefully she would be accommodating.

Draco exited the manor, walking down the stairs and past the twin serpent statues at the bottom, then disapparated.

He wasn't looking forward to tonight.

* * *

Draco entered the manor just as Rosier mounted the dais, holding up his hands to stop the orchestra. The music stopped and everyone gave the wizard their attention.

"Dear guests. We are now going to move to the lower floors of the manor for a bit of entertainment," Rosier announced, gesturing to several robed and half-skull masked wizards standing by a set of large double doors.

"Is this also a costume party?" one muggle man asked a pretty blonde woman in a blue sequined ball gown.

Elizabeth smiled at him. He was quite handsome. Tall, brown-haired and blue-eyed.

"Something like that. Rosier is full of surprises," she purred at him.

"Now," Rosier continued, "All of our non-magical guests please step forward and follow our escorts to the lower levels."

About thirty muggles stepped forward, looking confused but excited. The Death Eaters opened the door and walked through it, followed by the unsuspecting victims. The doors magically closed behind them.

Rosier looked toward the door, then back at the remaining guests.

"You may all don your robes now," he announced.

All around the ballroom spells were whispered. Suits and gowns disappeared to be replaced by black robes with the Morsmordre symbol on the left breast in silver and all faces were covered in half skull masks. Rosier looked over the crowd of Death Eaters.

"Are you all ready for the night's activities?" he asked them.

A roar of assent went up as Rosier left the dais. Only he remained in a suit.

"Then follow me, my friends," he said loudly, throwing open the double doors and walking through. Chattering and laughing Death Eaters followed. Both Severus and Draco held back and saw each other. The Potions Master strode over to the younger wizard and caught him by the arm, pulling him aside. He lifted his mask. Draco did likewise.

"Draco, Rosier has decided to give the muggles weapons to try and defend themselves from the lions. If they manage to kill the beasts, he will let them live," Severus said.

"What kind of weapons?" Draco asked him.

"Knives and spears. There will be three woman and two men in the pit with the creatures," Severus said.

"Untrained muggles given knives and spears. Very gracious of Rosier. He knows they will be frightened and unable to defend themselves," the blonde wizard said, frowning.

"Perhaps we can help them," Severus said, "Are you willing to try?"

"Yes," Draco responded, "What do you have in mind?"

Severus began walking toward the double doors.

"Come on. I'll tell you on the way," the wizard said, both of them lowering their masks.

* * *

A long flight of stairs hidden behind a wall led deep below the manor and into a large, round, open area, the walls made of hewn stone. Above the joists of the manor was visible. Torches attached to the wall gave off a reddish light as flickering shadows danced on the rough stone. Several dark doorways were cut into the stone, leading to other areas.

The confused muggles all stood in a huddled group as the masked Death Eaters entered and surrounded them.

"What's going on here?" a blonde haired muggle demanded, his eyes narrowed as he eyed the people surrounding them. Why were they wearing masks?

Rosier pulled out his wand.

"Crucio!" he cried, hitting the young man with the Cruciatus curse. He fell, screaming and shuddering as the horrible pain hit him, the Death Eaters cheering as the rest of the muggles looked on in horror.

Finally, Rosier released him. The muggle lay shuddering on the floor, and had pissed and defecated on himself. Rosier put his wand away.

"You are all tonight's entertainment," the wizard announced to the muggles, "and subject to our wills. If you cooperate, it may go easier for you…though I doubt it."

Evil laughter went up all around them.

"I want to go home," a red-haired woman said in a small voice, trembling. It was the one who had danced with Severus.

Rosier sneered at her.

"I hope you've lived a good life, muggle. The only home you'll be going to tonight is the heavenly one, if you are fortunate," he said darkly, pulling his wand out and pointing it at her.

"Divesto!" he breathed.

The woman's clothing disappeared and she screamed, trying to cover her nudity as hisses and growls went up all around her.

"Oy! She's a natural redhead!" a male voice shouted out of the crowd.

Several Death Eaters pushed forward towards her. Three muggle males crowded around her protectively, one taking off his suit jacket and draping it over the sobbing woman as best he could.

"No…not yet!" Rosier said to the advancing wizards who had drawn their wands to blast the men out of the way. They stopped, their eyes glittering.

"Bind them! All of them," Rosier cried.

Several wands pointed at the muggles and immediately their arms were bound tightly behind their backs. They struggled uselessly, including the naked woman, her assets open for all to clearly see.

"Can't wait to get a bit of her," one Death Eater said to the other.

Draco and Severus arrived, pushing their way to the front of the crowd. Severus' eyes washed over the bound muggles, and rested on the naked woman…the one he danced with. He was glad he was masked. Being considered part of this horror sickened him.

Rosier looked at the muggles, walking past them with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Her. Her. Him. Him. Her," the wizard said, pointing to five of the muggles, "Bring them this way."

Rosier walked through one of the carved doorways, torch light flaring up, silhouetting his form. One of the muggles he chose was the naked woman. Several Death Eaters grabbed her and fondled her, the woman screaming as they dragged her forward, fingers grasping at her breasts, thighs and buttocks. The other muggles who weren't chosen had body binds put on them and fell to the ground unable to move.

The Death Eaters followed Rosier, pushing the struggling muggles before them, cuffing and cursing them as they did so. Presently, they arrived at another large, round room of hewn stone, torches in sconces on the walls. In the center of the room was a large oval pit, with a wooden door at one end. Torches ringed the pit as well, illuminating it brightly. In the pit were two spears and three long daggers.

"Bring the muggles here," Rosier said, a look of excitement on his face.

Severus and Draco hurried to the edge of the pit, looking at the wooden door. No doubt the starved lions were behind it. The Death Eaters brought the five prisoners forward. Rosier took out his wand and one by one lifted the muggles and lowered them into the pit. He then removed the bindings.

"Hey, what's going on, Rosier?" one of the Death Eaters called out as they surrounded the pit, looking down at the muggles.

"A contest," the wizard said, "These five muggles will be pitted against two ravenous non-magical beasts, known as lions. They are ferocious creatures, with great fangs and claws. They are starving for meat."

The muggles all looked up at Rosier in horror.

"You're mad!" yelled one of the men, "Let us out of here!"

Rosier smirked down at him.

"Whether or not you get out of here alive depends on you, muggles. I have provided weapons to protect yourselves," the wizard said.

The muggles looked at the spears and knives.

"You call these weapons?" the same man yelled up at him. "We need guns, not spears!"

"Now, now. We want to give the lions a sporting chance. However, if you manage to kill the beasts, the survivors will be obliviated, healed and allowed to leave this place intact."

A murmur went up from the crowd.

"Aw, Rosier, why'd you have to put the redhead in there?" a voice chimed out from the crowd. "I wanted a go at her!"

"There are plenty other women to rape," Rosier said, "Now I am covering bets as to who will win this confrontation. It pays better if you include how many will survive. Cross betting is allowed. I will give you several minutes to place your bets before the fun begins.

"You're an animal!" a brunette muggle screamed up at Rosier.

He looked down at her disdainfully.

"I assure you, Madam, you will meet the 'animals' in a few minutes," he replied.

Severus and Draco watched as the muggles gathered up the weapons…the men taking the spears and the women taking the daggers, holding them gingerly. They were all scared to death.

"Think we can pull this off?" a masked Draco asked the Potions Master.

"Perhaps…but someone will have to be sacrificed," Severus replied darkly, "Everyone has to be distracted. I'm afraid only a death will distract them enough. Go place a bet on the lions. A large one."

"What?" Draco said incredulously.

"Go place a bet. You won't be suspected of interfering that way if what we do is found out," the wizard said.

"But what about you?" Draco said to him, frowning. He did have money, but he didn't like throwing it away.

"Gambling is a nasty habit," the Potions Master replied blithely, "Now go place the bet."

Severus folded his arms as a sign he wasn't going to discuss the matter any further. Scowling, Draco disappeared into the clamoring crowd to place his losing bet.

In the pit the muggles talked among themselves.

"I'm going to piss myself the minute those lions walk in here," one muggle man said as the women shivered.

The redhead's nakedness wasn't an issue now. Their lives were.

"Well, I suggest we stay in a small group and back up against the wall, with me and you holding the lions off with our spears. We might get lucky and stick one hard enough to do some damage," the other man said.

"We're going to die," one of the woman said, her voice shrilly, "we can't beat lions."

"Shut up!" the first muggle said, "We've got to try. If we can kill them, we'll get out of this. If we get them down, damn it…you all better start sticking them with those knives! I mean it!"

The women all nodded, tears running from their eyes. All five looked up at the robed witches and wizards placing bets on who would win. From the sound of it, it seemed everyone was going for the lions.

"I'll never play the derby again," one of the men muttered.

Draco walked up to Rosier.

"Two hundred galleons on the lions," Draco said as Rosier wrote it down with a quill.

"Only one and one half to one odds on that, Draco. Care to wager on who dies first?" Rosier asked him, "More money that way."

"No," Draco said sullenly.

"All right then, " Rosier said, turning as another wizard walked up to him.

Draco returned to Severus' side, looking down at the muggles, who had back up to the far wall, the women behind the men, who had their spears pointed at the door at the other end of the pit, determination on their faces. They didn't plan to die easily.

Presently the betting was completed and the Death Eaters once again surrounded the pit, looking expectantly at Rosier, then the muggles. Rosier pulled his wand.

"Let the entertainment begin," the wizard said, pointing his wand at the door. It flung open wide, a yawning blackness within. Nothing happened.

"Well, where are they?" a voice rang out in the crowd.

The moment it did, a terrifying roar sounded from within the darkness, then another. Suddenly a male lion ran into the pit, followed by a snarling female. Their ribs could be clearly seen. They must not have been fed for a couple of weeks at least. The beasts eyed the muggles cowering at the other end of the pit, and began walking toward them, snarling, their jowls dripping with saliva.

The Death Eaters were cheering the beasts on.

"Go get 'em kitties!"

"Fresh meat!"

The lions separated and approached the muggles from either side, slinking, stalking, moving in for the kill. The two men jabbed their spears at the beasts while the women were silent, shaking with fear and terror…too frightened to scream.

The male charged first, pulling up short as both men struck at it with the spears, the lion swiping at the pointed weapons with his claws. As both men battled with the male lion, their position changed slightly as they stood side by side, leaving the redhead unprotected.

Suddenly the lioness charged at her, grasping the woman by her dagger arm and dragging her screaming from the group.

"Oh my gods!" the other women screamed as the Death Eaters went wild, the female lion engulfing the woman's head with its mouth and biting down, her huge teeth piercing her skull.

The other lion broke away from fighting the men and ran over, grasping the dead woman by her leg and pulling shaking her body viciously until a limb was torn off, blood flowing everywhere.

The Death Eaters cheered as Severus looked on, his dark eyes somber. She had been so full of life on the dance floor. What a waste of life. Draco stared at the horror going on in the pit, unable to turn his gray eyes away.

The lions began to feast, ripping and tearing hunks of flesh from the body, entrails pouring out as they ate, snarling at each other, mouths and chests covered in crimson.

The other muggles were pale and one woman threw up.

Suddenly, the two men broke away from the women, their eyes wide as they approached the feeding lions, whose backs were turned toward them, raising their spears and moving quickly. The looks on their faces were fearful, despite how courageous they were acting.

The Death Eaters started yelling at the lions, telling them to turn around…but the beasts paid no attention. They couldn't understand human after all, and even if they could…they were so hungry they probably wouldn't have responded anyway.

Both men suddenly charged, driving their spears into the unsuspecting lions' sides, the beasts leaping up and roaring, scrambling away, the men pursuing them, stabbing viciously, the lions stumbling as blood poured from their wounds.

They tried to claw the men but they were weak from starvation and pain-wracked…the muggles plunging the spears into the dying creatures over and over, shock on their faces as they continued stabbing until the beasts fell still. And still they punctured the beasts, sweat rolling off them. Finally, they stopped…their suits splattered with blood, their chests rising and falling from their exertion. The lions lay still, bloody mouths open, their tongues lolling out in death.

The crowd of Death Eaters fell silent. The muggles had killed the lions with just spears. It was amazing and totally unexpected.

The two women still against the far wall collapsed on the floor, their arms wrapped around each other, sobbing with relief as the muggle men wiped the sweat from their brow and looked at the torn remains of the redhead. Then they looked up at the silent wizards.

"We won. Now get us the fuck out of here!" one of them called up to Rosier, whose face was black with rage. He would like to kill the smug bastard, but he had given his word they would go free.

Cursing to himself, Rosier levitated each muggle out of the pit, obliviating them as he did so. They stood there dazed as he scourgified them.

"Someone take this trash out of here," he snarled bad-temperedly.

"I'll do it," Draco said, walking forward, "I can't do the revel anyway…because…you know."

Rosier nodded and all the Death Eaters began to mutter, suggesting it was a fix because they all lost their money. But they knew it wasn't because of the contorted look on Rosier's face. His entertainment hadn't been what he wanted it to be.

Pumbleberry trundled up to him, swaying slightly.

"Next time get weaker muggles, Rosier or stronger lions," he said chuckling, his face red.

"Go fuck yourself, Pumbleberry," Rosier hissed, wanting to punch the fat pervert in his face.

"Temper, temper, Rosier," the wizard said, pulling on his mustache and grinning broadly.

Draco herded the muggles back up the corridor, Severus watching him soberly. They had managed to save four victims tonight. It was a record.

He believed this was the first time the Imperious curse had ever been used for good.

* * *

The revel was particularly brutal that night, the Death Eaters taking out their frustrations on the remaining muggles. Blood and screams were everywhere.

Elizabeth found the muggle who had spoken to her before they entered the lower mansion and made the poor man suffer terrible, conjuring hard spikes inside her vagina and shagging him, slicing his member in the process, blood pooling on his thighs. The other female Death Eaters were pissed off at her about it, but she didn't give a damn.

The good thing about Rosier's revels was that a person could roam from room to room and there were other entertainments besides raping and killing. He had a smaller ballroom for dancing, a banquet room where food and drink were served, a shower room, and a game room where wizards and witches could play cards, darts or billiards. So Severus didn't have to stay where the muggles were being abused.

However he did return at the end of the night to do "cleanup," mercifully casting the Killing curse on the poor, shattered yet still breathing muggles and disposing of their bodies. It was terrible work, but he was used to it, and it was kinder than letting them suffer for hours.

He stayed in one of the opulent guestrooms and for the next week traveled with Rosier to other revels being held in various homes and secret locations. When he went to bed at night, he focused on Hermione to keep from reliving the horrors he witnessed night after night. He would be glad when this would be over.

Rosier finally put together the competitor list and received the oaths necessary for participation. The competitors for the Dark Lord's throne were to come back Wednesday after next to find out who their initial foes would be. Then the competition would start in earnest.

* * *

Eloise was walking home from the tube four days after Eddie had found out where she lived and worked. The shrewd young man managed to get inside the apartment building by following some tipsy night owls in, then sat on the stairs at the top landing, watching down below. He was there over an hour before an upstairs tenant walked out of her apartment on her way to work and looked at him.

"Waiting for a friend," he said to her with a genteel smile.

The young woman eyed him, then gingerly walked past, looking up at him once more before descending the stairwell completely. Eddie's smile faded. After a while he saw Eloise exit her apartment. She left and the young man walked downstairs to get the number off the door.

He met Robert Thatcher at the designated meeting spot and gave him the information he wanted. That was an easy two hundred pounds.

It was just beginning to get dark when Eloise walked through the East End. The next full moon was just a week away and Eloise still hadn't come up with a plan to kill Fenrir yet, so had decided to try and embrace her werewolf form so she could retain knowledge of her actions and control her acts. If she could do this, she would be in a better position to consciously wreak her revenge on the big, hairy bastard.

Robert Thatcher, dressed all in black, waited up the street for Eloise. Luckily for him, he was downwind, because if Eloise had caught his scent, she would have immediately gone on point. Eloise let herself into the apartment, groaning immediately as she heard music blasting so loud she could hardly hear her own footsteps as she walked up the stairs. On the first floor two young men moved in with little more than stereo equipment about a week ago. Eloise knew the moment she saw them, they would be flooding her flat with loud music. But at least they turned it off about ten-thirty or so…in time for her to get some sleep.

The brunette walked up the stairs to the second floor, let herself into the flat, walked to the cooler and took out the raw steak she planned to have for dinner. She had tried other meats, chicken, lamb and pork, but none had the flavor of beef. She put a pan on the stovetop and turned it on low. Eloise liked the steak warmed…not cooked.

Robert waited until he saw three young men approaching the apartment and fell in behind them. They opened the door and went in, Robert catching it and sidling in after them. He lifted his collar and pulled his black hat further down his head so his features wouldn't be seen clearly and waited for them to go into a flat that was blasting music. How convenient for him. If the bitch struggled with him no one would be able to hear her.

Robert mounted the stairs quickly and looked for the number of Eloise's flat. It was right next to the stairs. The gray-eyed man pulled on a pair of black leather gloves, looking around carefully before knocking hard on the door and stepping aside to avoid the peephole. He might have to kick the fucking door in if she didn't open it. Then he had another thought. The woman might not open the door if she didn't see anyone. So he stepped back in front of the door but turned his back to it and pretended to be enjoying the music, bobbing his head.

Eloise looked up at the sound of the knock. She wouldn't have been able to hear it if not for her enhanced werewolf senses. That music was loud. She turned off the pan and walked to the front door, looking out the peephole. A man was standing in front of it, bobbing his head to the music. She couldn't see who it was but he seemed to be a party guy. He probably had the wrong apartment. She opened the door.

"Can I help…" she began.

Suddenly she was hit hard in the face and stumbled back into the apartment, falling on her back and landing hard on the floor as the man entered behind her, closing the door and locking it, his gray eyes resting on the fallen woman, who was rubbing her jaw and looking up at him. She recognized the scent immediately as Robert Thatcher started walking toward her menacingly.

What he didn't realize was that he had only surprised Eloise. She wasn't hurt at all. Rage filled the woman and she scooted back, crawling on her elbows and pushing with her feet, to lure him further into her flat.

"What do you want?" she asked him, her belly all in knots. The man stopped, an evil leer on his face as he pulled off his cap.

"You remember me, don't you love? You recognized me on the tube a week or so ago," he said, "We had a run in about ten years ago. I was never caught for it…not until now."

Eloise felt her head hit the back of the couch, then slowly rose, moving behind it as Robert began to advance again.

"What do you want?" she asked him again.

"You. You can finger me. My life is a whole lot better now and I can't afford to have you ruin it," he breathed, walking around the couch.

"Are you going to kill me?" Eloise asked him, her eyes glittering.

"Afraid so, love. It's nothing personal, but I can't go back to jail now…" he said, his eyes washing over her body, "But I think I'll have a bit of fun first. You remember how fun I was, don't you?"

Eloise's heart began to pound as she remembering the man choking and hitting her as he raped her brutally.

"Yes I do," she said with a low growl.

Robert hesitated. Had this bitch just growled at him? He looked at Eloise with a measuring glance. She wasn't that big…there was no way she could overcome him.

"Come here," he hissed, darting forward, Eloise pretending to try to elude him. She didn't move as fast as she could have and just managed to stay a bit out of his reach as he chased her around the room, his confidence growing as she fled before him.

"I said come here, damn it! You're just going to make it worse for yourself," Robert seethed, jumping over the couch and blocking her path. He grabbed her, yanking Eloise against his body and gripping her jaw hard, his eyes hard as he looked down into her face.

"You're going to pay for running, bitch," he snarled, raising his hand to slap her.

As he brought his hand down, Eloise caught his wrist. Robert tried to pull away from her grasp but found he couldn't.

"Let go of my wrist!" he hissed, releasing her jaw and trying to punch her in the face.

Eloise caught the other wrist as well. Man and woman now stood toe to toe, Robert desperately trying to pull his hands away. He started when he looked at Eloise's eyes. The pupils had dilated and now black veins were racing through the whites, and she pulled her lips away from her teeth which seemed very, very sharp.

"Holy mother!" Robert breathed, struggling fiercely now.

"You took something from me," Eloise said in a husky voice, "Something I can never get back, you bastard. Then you have the nerve to come back ten years later to finish the job? You black-hearted fuck. Now I'm going to get my pound of flesh from you."

Eloise began to squeeze, Robert crying out in pain and falling to his knees as she slowly crushed his wrist bones, feeling them turn to jelly under her hands as the man screamed in agony. Then Eloise viciously planted her sharp knee into his face, breaking his nose and two front teeth, blood gushing from his nose and mouth. He fell to the floor, his useless hands brought to his face, staring up at Eloise with the fear of God in his eyes.

"I'm not going to kill you…but you're going to wish I had," she breathed.

Robert screamed as the woman went to work on him.

* * *

Two hours later, amid a slew of nosey neighbors, medics removed Robert from Eloise's flat. Almost every bone in his body was broken and he had lost a lot of blood. The detectives took down Eloise's statement, frowning at her terribly for what she had done to the broken man. Robert Thatcher was in bad shape, criminal or not. Eloise claimed it was self-defense, but anyone could see that she had beaten the man far beyond what was necessary to disable him.

"He said that he couldn't go to jail for a rape he did ten years ago," Eloise told the detectives, "And said he was going to kill me. I had to defend myself."

"Every bone in his body is broken," the detective said to her.

Eloise shrugged.

"At least he's still alive. I did him a better turn than he intended to do me. He was going to rape me again before he killed me," she said evenly, "What would you have done if someone who had hurt you badly before came back to do you in? I did what I had to do. He's lucky I didn't just let him die then called you blokes."

"That would have been murder, Miss," a detective informed her.

"It would have been 'shock,'" Eloise replied.

The detective sighed. Yes, she could have claimed shock for a reason to not call them until after he was dead. Mr. Thatcher was a lucky man.

"Did you use something on him, Miss Hedgeberry?" the other detective asked her.

"Just my hands and feet," she said, then added the lie, "I got him down by kneeing him in the balls, then I just started hitting and stomping."

"Are you a martial artist, Miss Hedgeberry?"

"No. But I know how to protect myself," she said, thinking of the crowd of boys on the tube.

The detectives looked at each other. That was an understatement if they ever heard one. They both closed their pads and stood up, still eyeing Eloise as if they'd like to arrest her. But Robert Thatcher did have a record, and there was no good reason for him to have been in her flat. She was probably telling the truth. It had been self-defense…and more than likely…revenge. Eloise had busted him up but good. Probably adrenaline. People could become unbelievable strong when that stuff was pumping through their veins. She must have been terrified and flew into a frenzy when she got him down.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Hedgeberry. If we need anything else from you, we'll be back," the detective said, eyeing the blood all over the carpeting. She had quite a clean up to do.

"Fine," she said, walking the detectives to the door.

Her neighbors were all standing around, craning their necks to see inside Eloise's apartment and looking at her expectantly.

"A break-in," she said to them, "It went very badly for him, but I'm all right. Good night."

Eloise closed the door and locked it as the neighbors murmured to each other about how badly the man had been injured.

"And she looks like such a nice young woman," an elderly woman said to another, who scowled.

"She is. She just gave that bastard what for. Serves him right, trying to take advantage of a woman that way. He got what he deserved if you ask me," she snapped.

Most of the neighbors were in agreement. Actually, this might work out in their favor. Any other thugs who might have thought about robbing someone in this particular building would most likely have second thoughts now.

Eloise walked back into her living room and looked down at the congealing blood. After a moment's hesitation, she knelt and used her finger to pull up the hardening surface of the blood and stuck the tip of it in the part that was still liquid…swirling it because the blood had separated. Then she stuck her reddened fingertip into her mouth, bliss washing across her face as the sweetness hit her tongue.

God, human blood tasted so much better than beef blood.

She knelt there for several minutes, collecting as much blood as she could with her fingertip, then finally leaning forward and lapping up the rest with her tongue.

Damn…it was good. So good.

* * *

A/N:::shuddering::: ooh, that was a rather grisly ending to the chapter. :::shudders again::: Robert was quite lucky she didn't get a taste of that blood while she was wailing on him. Anyway, thanks for reading. 


	9. Part 9

**A Song for Severus Part 9**

Four days later, Volaria was sitting in Hermione's rooms studying Arithmancy. It was one of the studies she needed to brush up on. The young witch found it interesting and challenging, the study of lei lines was complicated and learning the basic operation of them like solving an intricate puzzle. Hermione was down in her labs, still working with the pixies.

Suddenly Volaria heard someone taking down the wards on Hermione's door. The voice was definitely male and did not sound like Professor Snape. She closed her book, wandlessly disillusioned herself and hid behind the armchair she'd been sitting in, ready to defend herself. The door opened…and in walked Albus Dumbledore.

"Volaria? Volaria my dear, come out," the kindly wizard said, striding into the rooms and closing the door behind him.

With a sigh of relief, Volaria removed the disillusionment spell and stepped out from behind the armchair. Dumbledore smiled at her benevolently.

"Ah, self-preservation…the first law of nature," he quipped at the young witch as she approached him.

"Good morning, Headmaster," Volaria said, her blue eyes wide as she wondered why the great wizard was visiting her, "I didn't know who was coming in…and I am supposed to be a secret…"

"Yes, yes you are Miss Riddle, but not for much longer. I have come to take you on an outing to Diagon Alley. You see…it is time for you to get a wand," the old wizard said, still smiling as she clapped her hands together happily.

"I'm going out into the wizarding world?" she asked him, almost unable to believe this.

Dumbledore nodded.

"That you are, my dear, and I will be your escort," Albus replied, "It is highly doubtful Bella is wandering about searching for you openly, but should she show up, I assure you I am more than capable of protecting you. Now, do you have a traveling cloak?"

Volaria shook her head. Albus pointed his wand at her. She was wearing a pair of Hermione's jeans and a t-shirt. He changed her clothing into a blue robe with a blue traveling cloak tied over it.

"There we go," he said benignly as Volaria looked down at her clothing with a smile. "You are going to need a proper wardrobe as well. Crimson robes are not the normal garb here at Hogwarts."

Volaria's blue eyes clouded a moment.

"But Headmaster, I have no money," she said.

"Not to worry my dear. You are a charge of Hogwarts. We have a fund to take care of the needs of those who are financially challenged. You will receive whatever you need as long as you keep your marks up. After talking to Miss Granger about your evaluation, I have no doubt you will do that easily," Albus said.

Volaria nodded.

"I love learning new things," she replied as she followed Albus to the door. She became apprehensive when he opened it.

"Aren't other people going to see me? How will you explain me?" she asked the Headmaster.

"You are a new student. That is all anyone needs to know…however…"

Albus pulled out his wand again and cast a spell on her that made her feel rather cold for a moment. It kind of felt like a disillusionment spell but she could still see herself. Volaria looked up at the wizard.

"What did you do to me?" she asked Albus curiously.

"I cast a little-used spell called 'Notice-Me-Not. It is rarely used, the disillusionment spell being the preferred method of concealment. Since this spell leaves one visible, it isn't as well-liked as the disillusionment spell because it leaves a feeling of vulnerability, as if one could be seen. But I assure you it is just as effective. Only I can notice you," the wizard said.

Volaria had never heard of this spell. It seemed quite good but she did feel rather nervous that she was visible. The disillusionment spell definitely brought more comfort.

"Come along," Albus said, exiting Hermione's rooms.

Volaria hesitated for a moment, then walked out into the dungeon corridor. It was a rather dark, foreboding hallway and she hurried to keep up with the Headmaster, who was walking briskly toward the arch of light a distance away. After a minute or two they entered the main hall. A few students greeted the Headmaster, but didn't acknowledge his young companion.

"They don't see me," she whispered to Dumbledore.

"No, but you can be heard," the Headmaster said, barely moving his mouth as they approached the main doors that led out to the school grounds.

Volaria fell silent. She didn't want anyone to hear her.

They exited the castle and walked quickly across the grounds to the main gate. Albus pointed his wand at it, and the gate opened.

Once outside, he warded the gate back, then walked up the road a short distance until they were beyond the sight of the gate. Then he removed the spell on Volaria.

"Have you ever apparated?" he asked her.

"Short distances inside the stronghold," she admitted, "I splinched the first few times though. I learned it by reading about it."

"Admirable," Albus said, "But in the wizarding world, you are not allowed to apparate until you are seventeen. You have to adhere to the rules, Miss Riddle."

Volaria nodded.

"I will," she said as Albus offered his arm. She took it.

"I will do the necessary apparition for both of us. Now hold on," he said.

Volaria adjusted her grip to be more secure.

With a crack of thunder, they disappeared.

* * *

In her lab, Hermione watched as the pixie she fed less than a dropperful of elixir contorted, clutching its throat, falling to the ground and writhing about in great pain. She was used to this now, and watched dispassionately as the small creature's hair fell out and blue skin purpled and became scaly, the ears and nose disappearing. It was usually at this point the creatures died.

The pixie dropped to the counter, falling still. Hermione sighed. Another one had died…or so she thought. She started to pick the tiny creature up when its eyes opened, crimson and glowing, and it sat up, scowling at her.

"Oh my gods," Hermione breathed as the pixie stood up, then rose, its normally light, translucent wings, dark, long and slightly ragged almost like a zombie butterfly's wings would look like if there was such a creature.

The pixie flicked a tiny snake-like tongue at Hermione, then suddenly shot a blast of fire at her that was quite long and powerful. Luckily Hermione was quick enough to avoid it. The creature had tried to blind her. Hermione quickly cast a freezing spell on it, but it only went rigid for five seconds before throwing the spell off, this time darting away and blasting the lab with flames…Hermione chasing it, extinguishing the fires before they did too much damage. Finally she cast a freezing spell with her signature and that immobilized the Voldie-pixie long enough for her to pluck it out of the air and place it in a cage with a dampening spell on it.

The pixie recovered quickly still, and glared at her from the cage, attempting to cast fire at her, but only a teeny spark flying from its scaly palm.

"I've done it," Hermione said happily, then rushed off to get another pixie, which she fed the precise dosage. It too turned into a Dark Pixie, and Hermione quickly immobilized it and put it in the cage with the first.

This wasn't a good idea. The first Dark Pixie immediately fried the immobilized one, the blackened body dropping to the bottom of the cage, smoking. Apparently, the first pixie wanted to rule alone, much as Voldemort did.

Well, she would just have to provide separate cages for each of them. She looked down at the pixie, which was holding the close bars tightly and looking up at her with hatred in its crimson eyes. There was an odd movement at its midsection. Hermione picked up a large magnifying glass and looked at the pixie. She gasped.

The creature's penis was writhing about in a snake-like manner, much longer than a normal male pixie's organ. Oh Circe. That was awful. Did Voldemort have a tool like that? Hermione shuddered and the Dark Pixie seemed to leer at her. She put the magnifying glass down, then walked over to her research notes and updated them.

Finally, she'd had a breakthrough. Soon she would be able to work on reversing the effects of the elixir.

* * *

Albus and Volaria arrived at Diagon Alley, the young witch's eyes going round at the sight of all the shops and items displayed in the windows. It wasn't as busy as when students were purchasing school supplies but there were more people strolling about than Volaria had ever seen in her life.

A beautiful broom rested on a long cushion in a window. Volaria pressed her face against the glass, her eyes longing.

"How beautiful," she breathed as she looked at the streamlined polished handle, silver stirrups and gleaming bristles. The sign read: "Firebolt 7 SE."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"A topnotch broom," he commented, cupping his hands around his face and looking through the glass as well, "Very nice."

He pulled away from the window.

"Come now. We must visit Ollivander's and choose your wand. Perhaps in the future you can return and window shop," the wizard said kindly.

Volaria reluctantly left the window and followed Dumbledore. She drank in the sights as if inhaling them, reading the names of the shops as they walked. Eeylops Owl Emporium, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Flourish & Blotts, Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, Magical Menagerie, Scribbulus Everchanging Inks and others. Barrels full of ingredients, charms and doodads lined the sidewalks and street peddlers shouted their wares. They passed a window full of robes and other nice clothing, then a bookshop loaded with books of all shapes and sizes, some of them flitting about and being netted by disgruntled clerks. Gods, she wished she could explore everything.

'Ah, here we are. Ollivander's," Albus said brightly.

Volaria looked at a narrow and shabby little shop. In the window was a faded purple cushion, and resting on it, a single wand.

"Ollivander's shop was closed for quite a while when your father came back into power," Albus said to Volaria in a low voice, "It reopened after his…demise. No one knows where the owner went and he refuses to tell to this day. Now, shall we go in?"

Volaria nodded and Albus pushed open the door. There wasn't that much to look at. There was a counter, a single spindly chair and the walls were lined floor to ceiling with thousands of narrow boxers. No one appeared to be present.

"Is anyone here?" Volaria asked the Headmaster.

As if in answer, a wizard slid into view riding a ladder, grinning.

"Of course someone is here, my dear," Mr. Ollivander said, climbing off the ladder and walking behind the counter, "Albus! A surprise and pleasure to see you again."

Albus reached over the counter and shook hands with the wizard.

"And it is always good to see you," the Headmaster replied

Volaria stared at Mr. Ollivander. He was a rather strange looking old wizard, with wild gray hair that stood all over his head and eerie moon-colored eyes. Suddenly they shifted toward her, looking curious.

"And you are?" he asked Volaria.

"Volaria Ruddle," she replied in a small voice as those moon-colored eyes seemed to look right through her.

"Ruddle. Ruddle. Not a name I am familiar with, though you, my girl look familiar. Who are your parents?" he asked her.

"She's an orphan, with no record of her birth parents," Albus interceded, "She has just come to Hogwarts and is in need of a wand."

Mr. Ollivander studied the witch, his brow furrowed.

"How sad," he said sincerely, "How very tragic. But you are quite the lucky witch to be attending such a fine institution as Hogwarts. No wand, eh? Well, we'll do something about that," he said, studying Volaria for a few seconds more before disappearing into the back. Dumbledore went and sat in the spindly chair, Volaria looking after him nervously.

"Don't worry. Just do what Mr. Ollivander tells you," he said, beaming at her.

Slightly reassured, Volaria turned back to the counter. After about three minutes, Mr. Ollivander returned with an armful of narrow boxes which he piled on the counter. He studied Volaria again, his hand hovering over first one box, then another. Finally he picked one up, opened it and offered its contents to Volaria.

"Go ahead, take it," he urged.

Cautiously, Volaria removed the wand, holding it awkwardly, as if it might explode.

"All right, now flick it," Mr. Ollivander said, moving out of the way.

Volaria did so…and nothing happened. Nothing at all. Ollivander scowled.

"Curious," he said, taking the wand from Volaria and replacing it in the box, "Usually there is some reaction. But don't worry. We'll try again."

Behind Volaria, Albus continued to smile, his hands resting on his lap.

Mr. Ollivander placed the box aside, and once again hovered over the wands left, then chose another one, offering it to Volaria. Again she flicked it. Again, nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander got an excited look on his face. He loved a challenge.

"This is really quite extraordinary," he commented, studying Volaria who was beginning to believe she couldn't use a wand.

They tried several more wands, all with similar results. Nothing. Not a spark of magic. Ollivander packed up all the wands and looked at Volaria, who was absolutely crestfallen.

"I wonder," Ollivander said to himself as he looked at the witch. He gathered up the boxes. "I will be right back."

Ollivander set the wands on a table. He'd put them back later. He walked to the back of his shop and entered a small storeroom. On a shelf rested a single narrow box. He picked it up and caressed it for a moment, his eyes shining.

"Maybe you've found a Mistress," he said to the box, then exited the storeroom, walked back to the counter and reverently placed the box on the counter. He looked at Volaria.

"I made this wand while I was 'away,'" the wizard said to her, "It was the last wand I made to date. It is made of yew, exactly 12 inches long, and the core…"

Here, Ollivander hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper

"…consists of two phoenix tail feathers. A very special wand indeed, meant to do great things, very great things."

Albus' eyebrows rose as he heard Ollivander describe the wand. Two phoenix tail feathers? Fawkes had given him four feathers decades ago. Two had been used for Tom Riddle's and Harry Potter's wands. The Headmaster always wondered what became of the other two. Now he knew.

Did Ollivander's disappearance have to do with the creation of this wand? Such a powerful magical item would have definitely attracted Voldemort's attention, as would the person who wielded it.

Ollivander opened the box slowly. Volaria looked at the wand…it was beautiful. Polished and tapered, the wood carved into a spiral, a tiny phoenix carved in the handle.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"Yes it is," Mr. Ollivander agreed, his hand shaking slightly as he held the box toward her, "Take it, girl."

Volaria reached into the box and removed the wand, admiring it. At first nothing happened, but suddenly she was enveloped in a golden light, her blonde hair whipping about her as if caught in an updraft. Mr. Ollivander looked at her in awe.

"Yes…yes…it was made for you," he said in a low voice as Volaria continued to glow. He held out the box again.

"Put it back," he rasped.

Volaria did so, the glow around her dissipating, her hair now a bit wild as it settled.

Mr. Ollivander stared at Volaria as Albus rose and approached the counter.

"I would give my right arm to know your parentage, witch," the old wizard said, his strange eyes looking at her hungrily. "You have a destiny."

Volaria stared at him but didn't say anything. But she was happy. She had a wand that worked for her.

Albus settled the account and together they left the shop, Volaria's wand tucked under her arm securely. The witch was so happy she couldn't say anything.

Albus looked thoughtful. He believed Ollivander created that wand to thwart Voldemort, but never had the chance to find someone to use it, or else had tried but found no one suitable. That the daughter of Voldemort now held it was significant. But how and why, the old wizard didn't know. One thing he did know was Volaria was no ordinary witch.

They apparated back to Hogwarts, Albus replacing the Notice-Me-Not spell on Volaria and escorting the excited witch back to Hermione's rooms.

"Now, don't use the wand without someone to give you guidance, Volaria. More than likely we will have to arrange private tutoring by Professor Flitwick. But Hermione is quite talented and may be able to help you focus," Albus said, a bit of warning in his voice, "You will be tempted, but I ask you to please wait for someone to help you. There are wand motions you need to know. It is not the same as wandless magic."

"Yes sir," she said, caressing the box, then placing it down on the small table next to the armchair, "Thank you for taking me to get it, Headmaster. It's the first gift anyone has ever given me."

Albus smiled at her…then suddenly Volaria walked up to him and embraced him around the waist warmly. Albus patted her back.

"You are very welcome, Miss Riddle…er…Ruddle," Albus said, correcting himself for the first time, "But we may find that it is you who is the gift."

Volaria released the Headmaster and looked at him, not understanding.

"What do you mean, sir?" she asked him.

"Just study hard my dear," the wizard said with a smile, "Learn all you can."

"I will," she replied, and watched as Albus walked toward the door.

"Good day, Miss Ruddle," Albus said, waving at her.

"Good day, Headmaster," she replied.

Albus exited Hermione's room and warded the door securely with an altered signature that Hermione would be able to get through.

Volaria sat down in the armchair and looked at the wand box for a moment, before she opened it, took out the wand and caressed it lovingly.

It really was beautiful.

* * *

Hermione had been rather shocked to return to her rooms and discover Volaria with her own wand. It was beautiful, a wonderful piece of craftsmanship.

"May I?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Yes," Volaria said smiling, handing the wand to Hermione, who studied it closely, noting the tiny carved phoenix on the handle.

"Albus took you to get this, Volaria?" she asked the witch, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes. He took me to Diagon Alley. It was wonderful! I never saw so many people and shops. But we couldn't look around. We had to get back," she said a bit wistfully.

Hermione smiled. She remembered how she felt the first time she saw Diagon Alley. It had been amazing and she had roamed about everyplace, dragging her parents behind her. She would have to take Volaria on an outing there. She looked at the wand again, then at Volaria.

"Did Mr. Ollivander tell you what the core was made of?" she asked the young witch.

Volaria nodded.

"Two phoenix feathers," Volaria replied, smiling.

Hermione stiffened.

Two? Two phoenix feathers? She had never heard of a wand that contained such a powerful core. Hermione stared at Volaria, thinking how many bugbears Severus would have if he knew the young witch had such a powerful wand in her possession.

"This is a very powerful wand, Volaria. Very powerful," she said to the witch.

"It is the only one that would work for me. Mr. Ollivander tried quite a few of them on me…and they wouldn't work at all. I thought I couldn't use a wand. Then he went to the back and brought me this one. He said it was the last wand he had made," Volaria informed Hermione, who looked thoughtful.

Mr. Ollivander's shop closed for a while when Voldemort returned to power, and no one knew where the wand maker went. Perhaps he was doing his own part to try and help bring down the Dark Lord by creating such a wand, hoping to find a champion to wield it. Perhaps he couldn't find anyone…until now. Voldemort's daughter.

Hermione looked around her rooms for any wand damage. Everything looked fine.

"Did you try to use this wand yet, Volaria?" she asked the witch.

"No. The Headmaster said I didn't know the proper wand movements and needed to be shown them before I used it. I've kept it in the box," she replied. "He said you might be able to show me some spells."

Hermione sighed. She had just made a breakthrough with the pixies. The only reason she was even out of the labs was because of Volaria. If she had been alone, she would have continued working far into the night. In fact, she felt a tiny bit resentful that Volaria was going to require time…but she had asked to take the young witch in…now she was her responsibility. Hermione sat down in the armchair next to Volaria's, considering what she would say to the witch.

Volaria watched as Hermione cleared her throat then addressed her.

"Volaria, I can't tell you the project I am working on at the moment, but it is very important and today I made a breakthrough, something that requires a lot of focus and attention. I am working within a kind of time frame…the project needs to be completed as soon as possible. Normally, I would still be in my labs working on it, but I had to come and see about you," Hermione said, "But I'm afraid most of my time will have to be spent working."

Volaria's face fell. Hermione wouldn't be able to help her. She was too busy. Once again she was being pushed to the sidelines for something thought more important. She was used to it, but still thought it might be better here.

Hermione continued.

"However, you do need instruction with your wand work and I am going to see that you get it. I am going to talk to Albus to see if we can arrange tutoring with Professor Flitwick in the evenings. Considering the caliber of your wand, I believe he will be quite willing to work with you. But remember, you cannot tell him who you really are. You can tell no one…ever."

Volaria brightened. The Headmaster had said private tutoring could be arranged.

"No, I know that," Volaria said, "But do you think Professor Flitwick will do it?"

Hermione smiled.

"I am certain he will," she said, "But Volaria, I am going to take your wand and put it away. It's not because I think you will try to use it, but it is just a precaution. I will give it back when you go for lessons, or let Professor Flitwick keep it for safeguarding."

Volaria looked at Hermione, then Professor Snape's scowling face suddenly came to mind. This was something he would have done. More than likely he wouldn't have let her bring the wand into Hermione's rooms…or even had let her have a wand. But he was very cautious. And she couldn't blame him. Most likely Hermione was trying to follow his lead.

"All right," she said, handing Hermione the narrow box and looking at the wand longingly as the witch put it away.

Hermione gave her a smile.

"Volaria, you are a very agreeable young witch," she said, "If that had been me at your age, I would have argued to keep the wand with me."

Volaria gave her a small little smile in return.

"I know why you're taking it, Hermione. Professor Snape would turn all kinds of colors if he knew I had a wand. Better safe than sorry. Plus I will get it back when I am learning how to use it. That's the only time I'll need it anyway. It's all right," she said.

Hermione couldn't help thinking how mature Volaria was for her age. But again, she was a Ravenclaw, and thought logically. Arguing wouldn't have help matters at all and Volaria realized this immediately.

"In fact, you can go back to your labs if you want," the young witch said, "I'll be fine."

Hermione shook her head.

"Not tonight, Volaria. Instead, how about we do a bit of reading up on first year wand work? Let you familiarize yourself with the basics. That way you and Professor Flitwick can get started on the initial spells," she suggested.

Volaria smiled brightly, jumping up and down in the armchair excitedly.

"Oh, I'd like that Hermione. I'd like that very much," she gushed.

Hermione smiled back at her, rose from the armchair and walked over to her library, running her fingers over the titles until she found the first year book of Charms. She pulled it out and brought it over.

Volaria pushed her armchair next to Hermione's and together they sat down and started reading.

* * *

The date of Malina's departure had been moved up three days because Dirty Magic's manager had arranged for them to do a promotion for "Felix's Flying Carpets" and they had to do a photo shoot. Felix's was the top magic carpet maker in the wizarding world and there were quite a few galleons to be made.

The first show would be held in the stadium constructed for the Quidditch World Cup. It was located on a nice, deserted moor with muggle-repelling spells on every inch of it. Already there were tents set up around the perimeter of the stadium, those fans with cheaper tickets being required to arrive two weeks early, and the rest of the arrivals staggered. The stadium seated 100,000 people and was completely sold out. A fortune had been spent on security, most of the guards moonlighting Aurors.

The giant blackboard across from the Top Box that held the purple and gold gilt prime seats would show the band in action and advertisements such as the one for Felix's Flying Carpets. The open stage would be in the center of the field. No doubt omnioculars would be in great use by all.

Draco accompanied Malina to his studio, and watched as the manager went over their itinerary. Today, they would do the shoot for Felix then continue on to their secret lodgings. Keeping it a secret had been rough. Determined paparazzi were watching the comings and goings of every band member and their manager. The only reason Malina had been spared this was because she joined the tour at the last minute. Miles had been delighted.

"Yes!" he shouted, swinging the witch around wildly, "Yes! This tour is going to be earth-shattering. Malina, you're going to become a star! A blooming star!"

Now the group clustered together, laughing, joking and ready to rock. Draco watched Malina smiling with the rest of the band members and felt a sudden coldness inside. It was definitely a clench of fear. But what was there to be afraid of?

"All right, time to get going you bunch," the manager said to the band, handing out port keys in the form of little glass music notes.

Malina took hers, then looked over at Draco, who looked very forlorn. Her heart went out to him and she broke from the group.

"Hey!" the manager shouted at her as she ran over to Draco, wrapped her arms around him and gave him a parting kiss. The wizard memorized the feel of her in his arms for the thousandth time. Malina broke the kiss and looked into his gray eyes.

"Remember Draco, it's when I'm farthest from you that I am closest to you, here," she said softly, pointing to her heart.

"Be safe, Malina," Draco said to her, holding her hand tightly. When she started walking back to the band, she had to give a little tug to get him to release her, his fingers sliding over her flesh as he reluctantly let her go.

Malina walked back to the band, her dark eyes resting on Draco.

"All right. All together now. One – two – three…Portis!" the manager cried.

The band, the manager, the equipment and Malina all disappeared with a blue flash of light.

Draco stood there a moment, staring at the empty space, the sudden silence looming. Sixteen weeks. Malina would be gone sixteen weeks. Still, it would be best. Now he could focus on the Death Eaters, Bella and Voltaire.

Draco stood there a moment more, then disapparated, his heart heavy. He couldn't shake the unsettling feeling he had.

* * *

Dirty Magic arrived at Felix's Magic Carpets and there was quite a crowd there, held back by magical barriers and several security wizards. They cheered wildly as the group walked by waving at them.

"Miles! Miles!" several young witches screamed, one of them fainting as the lead singer winked at her.

"Quite an effect you have on your fans," Malina said as they walked toward the main building.

"Just wait until the wizards latch on to you," Miles replied, "The girls are easy. The guys…you have to watch them. You might have to keep a repelling charm on you at all times."

Malina didn't relish the idea of that, but said nothing.

Suddenly a tall, thin olive-toned wizard with short wavy black hair and a pencil thin mustache strode up to them, smiling brightly.

"Welcome! Welcome to Felix's Magic Carpets my friends," he said with a thick middle-eastern accent. "I am Felix, the owner of this establishment. Please, come this way. Time is money, my friends, and as much as I have, I still want to keep as much as possible. So this way please."

The band members looked at each other as they followed Felix through the shop. Carpets hung everywhere, a few tassled floor models floating a foot or so above the ground.

"I've had to close the store for this shoot, so I am losing customers, so we must hurry," he said, leading them through the back of the store, through the factory.

Very young men and women were working at old fashion looms, weaving intricate carpets, tossing glittering powder into the strands as they worked the shuttles back and forth. Most of them were sweating and the work looked hard.

"Can't you weave carpets with magic?" Innis, the hairy drummer asked.

Felix looked at him, trying to locate his face. He gave up.

"No, most carpets are knit by hand to insure the magic is well woven in," Felix replied.

"Most?" Innis asked him.

"Yes, most. There are some exceptions," he said, leading them outside.

Several photographers stood about impatiently, and there were three magic carpets resting on the ground near them. But that wasn't what the band members were looking at. Their eyes were focused on a brightly colored magic carpet that was about 20 x 20 feet wide.

Felix smiled.

"This is the carpet you will be riding in the shoot. It will hold all of you. Now please get on. There are safeguards installed that will not allow you to fall off. You will be magically attached from the moment you lift off until the moment you land. The photographers will be flying around you getting their shots. Any questions?" Felix asked in a rushed manner. He wanted this over quickly.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Malina asked, her dark eyes sweeping over it.

"Yes, quite safe," Felix assured her, "I've been making carpets over fifty years."

Malina and the band members walked on to the carpet and sat down, feeling the thick fabric with their fingers, Innis grabbing up a fold of the cloth and tugging on it to check for strength. It seemed strong enough.

"Now, please give me your wands. The magical cores interfere with the magic on this particular carpet, which was only created to be used for the photo shoot. It is not a standard carpet. Your wands will be returned to you when the photo shoot is over.

Malina didn't like this. Her wand made her feel safe.

"Go on," the manager urged, thinking of the huge percentage he was going to make off this shoot. "It'll only be for ten minutes or so. You can live without your wands for that long."

There was a bit of grumbling, but the band members and Malina handed over their wands to Felix.

"Thank you. Now there is a spell in place that will, when invoked take you up and automatically position the carpet for the best shots. There will be several bursts of speed so your hair flies back, and a few swoops and turns. As I said, you will not fall off. Now, good luck. Up, carpet!"

The carpet gave a sickening lurch that made Malina's stomach flip over and she clutched Miles' arm. The lead singer grinned at her.

"No worse than a coaster ride, Malina. Don't worry," he said reassuringly as the carpet took off, flanked by the photographers.

"Is it supposed to go that fast?" the manager asked Felix.

"It's not that fast," the wizard replied, hoping the shoot would be over quickly. He had carpets to sell.

The magic carpet soared several thousand feet up, so the group was nearly in the clouds, the photographers circling around them.

"Stand up!" one shouted at them. "We need some standing shots!"

"No way," Malina said, hanging on to Miles, who tried to stand.

"Let go, Malina. We agreed to do this…now we have to do as they say," he said.

Malina reluctantly let Miles go and the lead singer stood up, his hair streaming in the wind.

"Perfect!" the photographer yelled.

Suddenly, the carpet jerked and Miles stumbled forward.

"Miles!" Malina screamed as the lead singer wavered on the edge of the carpet, catching his balance and giving her a smile.

"I'm all…."

Suddenly the carpet jerked again and Miles, his eyes wide with horror, fell over the edge of it, disappearing.

"Miles!!!" Malina screamed, crawling on her hands and knees to the edge of the carpet. She could only see a little dot getting smaller.

"No!!" she screamed as the carpet lurched again, sickeningly.

The photographers were zooming closer, reaching out their hands desperately at the remaining group members.

"Grab hold!" they shouted, terrified as the carpet began jerking terribly…not one band member able to reach them because of the motion. They were all clinging to the carpet.

Suddenly, it dropped, the edges flying upward as they plummeted toward the earth. Malina's wand fell out of her pocket and was lost.

At first Malina screamed and screamed as she felt them falling…then suddenly she stopped. Screaming wouldn't help.

As they fell toward the earth, their bodies tangled together in the midst of the carpet, the other band members screaming for help, Malina's mind grabbed hold of Draco's image and their last time together.

"I'll always love you, Draco Malfoy," Malina whispered as if a prayer, "For all eternity."

Even under the pressure of the struggling bodies pressed against her, Malina could feel the power of her Oath wash over her along with a great sense of peace. Everything would work out the way it was meant to. At least she had loved. To love and to be loved was the greatest gift life could give. Draco Malfoy had been her gift, and Malina was grateful. Despite how dark, strange and introverted she had been for most of her life, she hadn't been alone in the world. Someone had found her worthy of love.

This was Malina's last living thought as the world she once occupied rushed up to meet her.

* * *

Draco Malfoy woke up alone in his four-poster, feeling Malina's absence. They had spent the last several days and nights together. Not every moment was spent making love. They had shared thoughts, dreams, hopes and fears, getting closer to each other.

Draco had tried to find out more about Malina's background. Her parents. Just because she was a muggle-born didn't mean he wouldn't find them interesting…the truth was he would. The wizard would like to know about the people who raised her.

"I would rather not talk about them, Draco," Malina would say, her eyes dark.

The witch had so many secrets, and it was like she had an unbreakable ward around her when he tried to get through to her. But Draco kept at it. Maybe one day she would open up fully to him. He just needed more time.

The blonde wizard rolled out of bed and pulled on his emerald green silk housecoat over his green silk boxers and walked into the bathroom. He pissed, washed his face, brushed his teeth and returned to the bedroom, tying his robe sash and stepping into his slippers. He exited the bedroom and headed for the parlor to have breakfast and read the morning paper.

He arrived to find his breakfast hot and steaming on the table. The house elves had prepared was what Draco liked, grilled kidneys, scrambled eggs, a few smoked fish and brown bread with butter. A jar of honey graced the table along with a pot of tea and cold pumpkin juice. Everything smelled delicious, but Draco wasn't as hungry as he should have been. Breakfast had been much more enjoyable when Malina shared it with him.

Everything was better when she was with him. When she returned from tour Draco was determined to become engaged to the witch. He wouldn't force a date to be married on her, but he wanted that claim. They could marry later on. Malina still had a lot of living to do. She was an amazing talent, and had the potential to be a very big star. This tour with Dirty Magic could be the start she needed. He hoped her first day out with the group went well, despite missing her.

Draco sat down at the table. The Daily Prophet was rolled up and waiting next to his plate. He fixed himself a cup of tea and sipped it slowly, before filling his plate. He took a bite of bread and honey, then finished his tea.

The edge off, Draco picked up the Daily Prophet and unfolded it, scanning the headline as he did every morning.

**Members of Popular Band Dirty Magic Die in Tragic Carpet Accident!**

Draco felt as if a great hand had come out of nowhere and wrapped around his body, squeezing him in its fist so he couldn't draw a breath. Everything around him went dark except those eleven words as the Hand of Fate crushed him.

"No. No," he breathed, his eyes dropping to the story. Maybe Malina hadn't been with them…maybe she was safe…safe and shaken. She had to be. Malina couldn't be dead. She couldn't be.

Draco read the article. It said that the group had been doing a promotional photo shoot for Felix's Magic Carpet, when the carpet they were riding malfunctioned. They didn't have wands with them because the magical cores would interfere with the carpet's magic, so couldn't save themselves when it fell. One of Felix's employees stated they tried to tell their boss that knitting four individual carpets together with magic wasn't safe, but Felix was trying to save money and said it would only be used once. Apparently, once was enough as far as Dirty Magic was concerned. Felix was currently under investigation and his store closed.

Draco's eyes filled with tears as he read the names of the deceased.

_Miles Ruffins, Innis McGowan, Jonathan Swagger, Howard Baines, Kevin Bailey and back-up singer Malina Pascal._

Back-up singer? Malina was no backup singer on that tour…she was going to be a star! A fucking star! People were going to fall in love with her when she took the stage and sang with that heavenly voice. They were going to love her!

Draco stared at the paper…feeling everything inside him tighten into a small, hard ball of grief.

"Malina," he whispered, then…he exploded.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Draco screamed, rearing back roaring at the ceiling before flinging the newspaper out of his hand, grabbing the edge of the table and throwing it end over end, food flying everywhere.

"No! No! No! No!" he continued to shout as he threw chairs and small tables around the parlor, turning it into a shambles. House elves winked in, trembling in the corners as they watched their Master fall apart, tearing up everything within reach in the parlor. Then suddenly, Draco bolted from the room, tears streaming from his eyes.

He ran into the bedroom, pulled out his two-way mirror, sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at it.

"Show me the object of my desire," he gasped staring at his reddened face.

The mirror didn't respond.

Draco shook it viciously.

"SHOW ME THE OBJECT OF MY DESIRE!" he screamed at it, as if by will alone he could terrorize the shining piece of glass to show him Malina, safe and alive. But this didn't happen. Only his reflection glared back at him.

"Damn it!" Draco cried, throwing the mirror against the stone wall of his bedroom and smashing it to pieces. He sat there a moment, his arms dangling helplessly between his legs, his head hanging as his chest heaved, the wizard gulping air. Then he looked up and ran over to his wardrobe, digging through his robes pockets until he found the parchment that tracked Malina. He held it up.

"TRACK!" he demanded.

A map formed and Draco let out a sob as he read the name of the place Malina was.

St. Mungo's Morgue.

"Oh dear gods!" the wizard sobbed, falling to his knees, the parchment dropping to the floor as he cried, then began beating the floor with his fist. Then he tore his robe off, throwing it across the room.

"Why? Why?" he gasped, "She had so much to live for. We had so much to live for."

Draco straightened and looked up at the ceiling as if he were looking into heaven itself. His red-rimmed gray eyes glinted with hatred and rage as he spewed his venom to the gods he imagined were looking down on him.

"I don't believe in you! Benevolent gods! There are no such beings! If you do exist, I hate you…I fucking hate you all with every fiber of my being! How could you take her? How? Murderers! Murderers!" he screamed, before falling back into sobs, stretching out on the cold tile floor and rolling to his back, closing his eyes and shaking his head back and forth.

This went on for several minutes, the house elves creeping into his bedroom and standing about helplessly, their ears flattened to their heads, and their heads bowed in sympathy for their master and the lovely Miss that was no more.

Finally, Draco stopped, his eyes opening and turning toward the house elves, who all looked at him sadly.

"Why?" he asked them softly, "Why her?"

One elf slowly walked forward. His name was Eli and he served the Malfoy household for many years. Draco was much kinder now than he had been growing up, and the elves had come to love the young wizard, whereas before they had only feared him. Draco had no one to turn to concerning Malina. He had kept her such a secret. Even Severus only knew he had a witch who was not happy with his disappearances. Draco had shared nothing else. Only the house elves really knew who she was and what she had meant to him.

"No one knows why these things happens, Master. Is sad, yes, but is life…and life is precious because these things happens, sir. We is all very sorry about the Miss. We will helps you all we can, sir," Eli said reassuringly.

Draco looked at all the elves, then pushed himself up from the floor and stood in the bedroom forlornly, wiping at his eyes. There was so much pain inside him…it was unbearable, the kind of pain that would send him into Malina's arms. But those arms would never bring him comfort again. Malina was gone.

Dead.

"What am I going to do without her?" he whispered brokenly.

Eli walked up to Draco's side and peered up at him.

"Live, Master. You will live," the elf said softly, then waved a claw at Draco as the other elves rushed up. Draco slumped, the elves catching him and lifting him up.

"To the bed," Eli directed, "Lets him rests for now. Lets our master rest."

* * *

All around the wizarding world, people were mourning the death of Dirty Magic. Flowers were strewn all over the back lot of Felix's Magic Carpet store, which was shut down. Wizards and witches were calling for Azkaban, claiming the greedy wizard had all but murdered the band.

The students at Hogwarts were subdued and saddened, and Albus said a few words about the band at breakfast, what a loss they were. Dirty Magic had played for a few of the school's events before they became big stars, and even came back once for free because Dumbledore had believed in them before they hit it big. It had been quite an event. Albus didn't let anyone know who would be playing until they appeared on stage. The students went berserk and it was one of the best dances in Hogwarts history.

St. Mungo's Hospital was surrounded by blockades and Aurors as crowds stood vigil outside and photographers tried to sneak in to get photos of the battered bodies. They lay side by side in the basement of the hospital on gurneys, under a stasis spell, covered with white sheets, their pale toes tagged to identify them. The morgue workers put them back together as best they could, but the bruises were still visible. The morticians would handle that.

One by one the bodies were claimed by sobbing relatives. All but one.

Malina's.

Her parents had been contacted, but no one arrived to claim the witch. She lay there alone in the dim light of the morgue, waiting.

* * *

Later that evening, Draco pulled himself together enough to go to St. Mungo's. The crowds had dissipated once it was found out the bodies had been claimed. Malina had no fans, so they all went home.

Draco walked into the hospital and up to the desk. A medi-witch looked up at the wizard. It was easy to see he was grief-stricken, his eyes ringed in red.

"May I help you, sir?" the witch asked Draco gently.

"Yes. I want to know if the body of Malina Pascal had been claimed yet," he said to the medi-witch.

"No sir, her muggle relatives have been contacted and instructions given how to claim her, but no one has showed," she replied.

Draco blinked at her, unable to believe that Malina's parents would just leave her here like this.

"I…we…Malina and I were…close. Could I claim her body?" Draco asked her.

The witch shook her head.

"You would have to have written permission from her next of kin," the medi-witch said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a form.

She then pulled a chart, and Draco saw Malina's name on it. She filled out a part of the form with the address of the witch's parents using the information on the chart.

"Here you go. This is their address. Mr. and Mrs. William Pascal. Get them to sign it and we can release the body to you," the medi-witch said to him.

Draco took the paper and studied it, then looked at the medi-witch.

"Can…can I see her?" he asked softly.

The medi-witch shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid not…not until you have that paper signed. And to be honest Mr…" the witch hesitated.

"Malfoy," Draco said, his gray eyes resting on her.

"To be honest, Mr. Malfoy…I wouldn't advise seeing her before the morticians prepare her. Impact death is terrible on the body," she said softly.

Draco's eyes began to fill again.

"Thank you," he rasped, turning away and quickly leaving the hospital.

"That poor young man," the medi-witch said, her own eyes filling at Draco's obvious pain. "Life is so unfair."

Draco walked out into the night air and took a deep breath. He stared down at the parchment, studying the address of Malina's parents. He wouldn't go there tonight. He was in no state. He'd visit them tomorrow and get them to sign the paper as well as find out just why they didn't claim their daughter's body.

There had to be a good reason.

There'd better be.

* * *

Draco was dressed immaculately in a black suit as he stood on the sidewalk looking at the small house the Pascals resided in. The front yard had sparse grass and thin bushes, and it was less than gray. Colorless would be the word to describe it as he walked up the walkway. No wonder Malina had been so somber if she were raised in this household. Draco could feel the coldness as he approached the house. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Almost immediately the door was pulled open by a tall, dark haired man, with narrowed mean eyes and an angular face. His lips were held in a thin, disapproving line and his dark hair combed straight back. Draco had a feeling this was the man's natural look and just not for him.

"May I help you?" William Pascal said in a deep, pastoral voice.

"Yes sir. My name is Draco Malfoy. I am here to speak to you about your daughter, Malina Pascal," Draco said offering his hand to the muggle.

William looked at Draco's hand as if it had been dipped in shit. Draco lowered it.

"Daughter? I have no daughter," he said to Draco.

Draco pulled out the form.

"It says right here that you are the father of Malina Pascal," he said.

A slender dark-haired older woman appeared next to William, her brown eyes sad as she stared at Draco.

"Get back in the house, woman. This doesn't concern you," William snapped at her.

Malina's mother melted back into the house, William looking after her with a frown before he turned back to Draco.

"Satan fathered that child, not me," William said, "Exodus Chapter twenty-two verse eighteen: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Malina was the spawn of Satan and would not repent her evil. We gave her over to the devil long ago. She's dead to us. That God has taken her wickedness out of the world…is a blessing. A victory for Heaven."

Draco stared at William Pascal. He had disowned Malina because she was a witch? His own daughter?

Draco swallowed down his rage, though he shook slightly as he addressed the pale muggle.

"Mr. Pascal, Malina's body is in the morgue. I would like you to sign this form so I can give her a proper burial," Draco said, holding out the parchment.

William looked incredulous.

"A proper burial? She is a witch…she can't be buried on hallowed ground. Let her rot where she lies," he snarled, "Or burn her. That is the proper end for a creature like her. I will sign nothing! Good day!"

Mr. Pascal slammed the door in Draco's face.

Draco stood there blinking for a moment as cold anger rose up in his belly. Mr. Pascal would sign the paper…or else. Draco pulled his wand and was about to blast the door off its hinges when he heard a "pssst!"

He looked around and standing down a ways at the end of the yard was Malina's mother. She waved him over and started walking quickly down the street, Draco following. She stopped when they were out of sight of the house. Draco walked up to her.

"I'm Diana Pascal, Malina's mother," she said softly, her lip trembling, "Is she really dead?"

"Yes," Draco said, his eyes hard as he looked at the woman.

Diana's eyes filled with tears and they began rolling down her face.

"How…how did she die?" she asked him.

"An accident. She fell from a great height," Draco replied, leaving out that she was on a magic carpet.

Diana swallowed, blinking back her tears.

"Did she suffer?"

"I don't think so. I believe she died quickly," Draco replied, his eyes softening a bit as he felt Diana's pain.

"Good. I wouldn't have wanted her to suffer…she'd suffered enough over the years. My poor child," Diana said in a near whisper, "Give me the paper. I'll sign it. Please bury her with some dignity."

Draco gave her the parchment and Diana produced a pen from her sweater pocket, and resting it against her palm, signed her name and handed the parchment back to Draco.

"Thank you," he said, folding it and placing it in his pocket. He turned to go. He felt Diana hesitatingly touch his arm and stopped, looking at her. She was tall and slender just like Malina was, though she looked more like her father.

"Wait. I want to know…were you someone special to Malina?" Diana asked him, "A friend?"

Draco looked at her.

"I was more than a friend, Mrs. Pascal. I wanted to marry Malina," he said.

Diana smiled at him through her tears.

"So, she wasn't alone then. She was loved," she said softly.

Draco nodded.

"Very much so," the wizard said.

"That's good," Diana said, looking at him gratefully, "I was always so worried she would be alone. She was so introverted, so to herself. It wasn't her fault, you know. William never understood that. When things happened around her, he said the devil was at the bottom of it…but I never believed it. Malina was a sweet little girl, there was never anything evil about her. But William treated her like a pariah, keeping her locked away as much as he could, only letting her out for school and church, having everyone pray over her to drive the evil out of her constantly. Then…then the owls came…creatures of the night…the devil, all carrying letters that said she was to attend a school for witches. William was livid, saying hell itself was rising to take her…then came the exorcisms…the terrible rituals. Malina was almost drowned once as they held her in the baptismal pool trying to drive the evil demons out of her…"

Draco frowned at Diana.

"You are her mother! How did you let them do that to her?" he demanded.

"I…I am subject to the will of my husband. All good Christian wives are," she replied, "There was nothing I could do. If I tried, then I would be considered on the side of the devil as well."

Draco scowled at her as Diana continued.

"Then…then he showed up, dressed in a bright blue gown with orange stars, a tall hat and a white beard past his waist, asking that Malina be allowed to go with him to some place called Hogwarts. Hogs were what Christ cast demons into. My husband told him he would never take Malina…he would kill her first. And he went away," Diana said.

Draco knew Albus had come to visit to convince them to let Malina go to Hogwarts and been turned away.

"Then William became obsessed with cleansing Malina's soul. He took her out of school and kept her locked in her room reading the Bible night and day, repenting what she was…and…and…he beat her, trying to drive out the evil, and there were even more exorcisms. They did horrible things to Malina…and…and one night they had bound her and were whipping her when the entire room shook and everyone was thrown against the wall, unable to move and watched as the ropes around her untied themselves, and Malina stood up…"

"'I'm not taking this anymore," she said, "I'm leaving here and if any of you try to stop me, you'll be sorry. Very sorry.' Then she dressed herself and packed a small bag and left. She was only twelve and a half years old when she left. We were all stuck to the walls for about an hour before we could move again. My husband and the others said Satan's power had done this, protected his own and from that day William declared Malina dead to us. But me…I've always loved my daughter. You have to believe me," Diana said, bursting into tears.

Draco didn't have any sympathy for the muggle. She had abandoned Malina too, and let them do those terrible things to her.

"Some way to show your love," he said coldly.

Diana blinked up at him.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Pascal," Draco said, disapparating with a peal of thunder, startling the woman. Diana stared at the empty space as William walked down the street, his face contorted.

"What deal have you struck with the devil, woman?" he snarled at her.

Diane began backing up, shaking her head.

"No deal, William…I just wanted Malina put…"she started.

"Don't mention that name in my presence!" William cried, slapping her, "Now get back to the house you…you bitch!"

Diana scampered back to the house, William striding after her, already unbuckling his belt. She was supposed to obey him. He was the head of the house and closest to God. She would pay for her treachery and repent her sin against him.

He entered the house, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Draco returned to St. Mungo's with the form. The same medi-witch was at the counter, took the parchment and with her wand, tested it for validity. It glowed blue.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy…you can contact the morticians to come and claim the body," she said to the wizard.

"Can I see her first?" Draco asked the medi-witch, who looked very somber.

"I really don't advise it," she said, "She was badly mangled. She's been physically set to rights, the broken bones knitted back together and organs put back inside and the flesh repaired as good as possible…but there are marks and bruises. It would be better if you waited for the morticians to prepare her body cosmetically."

"I've seen mangled bodies before," Draco said evenly, "I want to see her."

The medi-witch looked at Draco sadly.

"Very well, but I'll take you," she said, motioning to another medi-witch and whispering in her ear. The witch looked at Draco with a sympathetic expression, then nodded. The medi-witch walked around the desk.

"Come with me, Mr. Malfoy," she said walking through a set of double doors and into a lift, followed by Draco.

"Morgue," the medi-witch said, and the lift began to descend. She looked at Draco.

"I'd like to go in first, Mr. Malfoy, just to make sure everything is as it should be," she said.

Draco nodded, saying nothing, his belly in knots as the lift dropped lower. Finally it stopped, the doors opening.

The bowels of St. Mungo's was very cave-like with torches in sconces on the wall. It was also very cold down here. The medi-witch wrapped her sweater around herself a bit tighter.

"This way Mr. Malfoy," she said leading the way down the long corridor, torchlight flickering over the silent pair. They came to a set of heavy double doors.

"Wait here," the medi-witch said, entering the morgue.

Several empty metal gurneys sat side by side. The last one held a body covered by a sheet. Ethel, for that was the medi-witch's name walked up to it, drawing her wand. Taking a deep breath, she removed the sheet from Malina's head, looking down at her.

"Poor thing," Ethel though as she looked at her blackened bruises and stiff hair. She pulled the sheet down further and saw the witch's body was a mass of bruised flesh. She pointed the wand at the body and glamoured it so the skin was even and pale. Then she cast a charm on her hair to soften it.

"You look much better," she said to the dead witch, "At least it won't be as painful for Mr. Malfoy to look at you."

Ethel wiped away a little tear, pulled the sheet back over Malina and walked back to the door, pushing it open.

"You may come in now, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

Draco entered and stopped at the door as he saw the body of his lover covered in a sheet on the last gurney, her feet sticking out of the end with a tag on her toe. They were so pale, much more pale than he was used to.

"May I be alone with her?" he asked Ethel in a hoarse voice.

"Of course. I'll wait outside for you," Ethel said, exiting the room.

Draco stood there for a minute or two, then slowly walked over to the gurney. Everything felt strange and unreal as he looked down at the sheet. He gripped the top of it and slowly drew it away from Malina's face, looking down on the witch he loved. She was so pale, so still…it was as if she were a golem waiting to be given life. Her lips were blueish.

"Oh Malina," Draco breathed, his gray eyes filling with tears as he looked down on the dead witch, "You were the only woman I ever loved. Why did you leave me? Why, witch?"

Malina lay there, silent and cold. Draco caressed her hair which felt stiff, despite how soft it looked. The wizard realized the medi-witch had cast a glamour on Malina's body. He was thankful. Yes, he had seen many broken bodies at the revel, but he didn't think he could have stood seeing Malina's body battered and bruised. He was nearly falling apart now.

"I'm going to keep you near me, Malina," Draco breathed, "I will bury you in the garden on the Manor grounds…remember the garden with the roses that you loved so much? Yes, there. You'll be surrounded by beauty and birdsong. And I will visit you, sit by you and tell you everything that's happening in the world, yes…I'll sit by you and…"

The wizard's throat suddenly closed up and he couldn't speak for a moment. When he did he could only gasp, "What am I going to do without you?" falling across her cold body and weeping as if he would never, ever stop.

It was a long time before he did. And when he did, he looked down at her once more, and pressed his mouth to her cold lips.

"Goodbye, Malina," the wizard said, covering her once more with the sheet. "I will always love you."

Wiping his eyes, Draco exited the morgue, feeling as if all the happiness he had ever known was left behind on a steel gurney, alone, cold, dead and covered by a thin white sheet.

* * *

Remus Lupin walked through the forest that bordered Rubin Fezwig's farm. This was where he spent his night of transformation each month. Rubin once had a son who had been turned into a werewolf as a child, nearly the same age as Remus when Fenrir took revenge on him for being insulted by Remus' father. Unfortunately, Rubin's son took the bad path, becoming a criminal to earn money, committing crimes with other werewolves to earn an illegitimate living. Werewolves, even those living within wizarding law were shunned, and it was hard to get gainful employment.

Rubin's son was killed in a face-off with Ministry Aurors. His father had been devastated, but he always knew his boy would meet with such an end. When Remus came to him about the charmed barn he had to let, the farmer recognized the werewolf scent on him. Not many could, but as a wizard whose son had the malady, he could tell immediately.

Rubin was going to dismantle the main components of the barn to accommodate whoever rented it. He thought it would be used for storage. But it appeared that it was perfect for what Remus. The barn was divided by sturdy steel bars and an iron door with a heavy locking system. A heavy concrete slab was sunk deep into the earth and four manacles with long magically enhanced chains was attach to it by heavy rings. Remus had inspected it thoroughly and found it was just what he needed.

To the werewolf's delight however, Rubin informed him that he could freely roam his lands without worry during his transformation. Both his home and the barn he kept his animals in were werewolf safe, having silver threading worked in the construction and silver blinds that dropped at every full moon. No werewolf could penetrate them. Since the nearest neighbors were many kilometers away, Remus was safe to go wherever he liked.

Because of the wolfsbane potion Remus drank before transformation, he retained much of his human mind and wasn't completely taken over by the animal part of himself. To date, he had never killed a human being, though he had on occasion hunted small animals…mostly for sport rather than hunger, his wolf half loving the chase. Smaller animals generally could escape because of their size, either scampering up trees or slipping into holes with connecting tunnels. In the second case Remus would happily dig up the earth, snuffling for his prey, which was usually by this point…long gone.

He would apparate to Rubin's farm on the day of the full moon and spend it there, the farmer often making him one or two large rare steaks and talking to him for a greater part of the day before locking his animals and himself inside to wait for the moon to rise and wane.

Since the loss of his job at Hogwarts as the DADA teacher, Remus got by doing small jobs and working from time to time at the Three Broomsticks. He didn't make much money but enough to keep a small room in Knockturn Alley and provide for himself. It was a lonely life, punctuated by occasional visits from the Aurors who worked for the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. This was always unpleasant with Remus having to sit by while they rummaged through his scant possessions, questioned him and sometimes even took his money. Who could he complain to?

Despite the unfairness of his situation, Remus continued to live as well as he could, although he was very lonely. His sexual life was virtually non-existent unless you counted his ongoing relationship with his hand. There were few werewolf females, very few and they were extremely picky about who they mated with. Most were quite old as well. Remus wasn't an alpha male in any sense of the word, and didn't visit the village where the werewolves lived very often. Fenrir was a strong presence there and very dominating. Remus hated the werewolf and would like to exact revenge, but he couldn't do it alone. The others were too frightened of failure to help him. Fenrir had been the cause of many of the transformations.

As he walked to the edge of a little visited field, emerging from the forest, Remus stiffened. He smelled blood. Human blood. Fresh, sweet and alluring. Remus had never touched the stuff, but it still affected him. He stuck his finger in his mouth and wet his nostrils with it. He did have an enhanced sense of smell but the moisture helped him focus when he was still human. He lifted his head, tilted it back and forth then caught the scent strongly. He began to run toward it.

* * *

Eloise stood outside of her flat feeling flighty and uncomfortable. The full moon was going to rise tonight and Fenrir would be coming to retrieve her. She didn't want the werewolf stinking up her flat so waited to smell his scent. She'd follow him until they could disapparate away safely.

She still hadn't come up with a way to kill the werewolf yet, so decided to do her best to accept her transformation and keep her sensibilities. Fenrir had said it was when one fought the change that their minds suffered. So if she wanted any chance at revenge, she would have to transform willingly.

A number of youths standing around a barrel across the street noticed Eloise pacing back and forth in front of her apartment building, but not one made any attempt to accost her. They all had heard what she did to the last bloke that tried it. Made a real mess of him, she did. Almost killed him with her bare hands.

"Think she's waiting for a date?" one straggly-haired young man said to another, passing him a cigarette.

The mohawked young thug tapped the cigarette's filter on the back of his hand to pack it, looking at Eloise with narrowed eyes.

"If she is, he's a brave bloke…I tell you that. I wouldn't fuck a bird who could make my knees bend backwards," he replied, sticking the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it with a match, "No telling what else she'd bend up."

At that precise moment, Eloise stopped pacing and looked directly across the street at the boys, smiling. It was a very unpleasant, rather threatening smile.

"Holy shit! Think she heard you?" the scraggly-haired youth asked his partner as they both turned their back to her quickly.

"No, she couldn't have…but come on, I want to get a pop," his friend replied. They quickly started walking up the street.

Eloise grinned nastily. She liked putting the fear of God into the little bastards. It was good to see them terrorized for once. Suddenly she smelled Fenrir and looked about, narrowing her eyes. Yes, she could make out his shimmer down the block. She began to walk toward it and it moved away.

As she followed the disillusioned werewolf, she could smell something else. Something attractive…something delicious.

Blood. Fresh blood. Human.

The shimmer turned between two buildings and Eloise followed.

"You smell like blood," she said to the disillusioned wizard, who suddenly appeared, melting into view, his wand in his hand.

Fenrir smiled at her with his pointed teeth. His face and beard were streaked with crimson.

"Like it, bitch?" he rasped at her, his yellow eyes taking her in.

Eloise swallowed down her saliva.

"No. I was just saying you smelled like it," she snapped, "And stop calling me bitch!"

She kicked him in the leg, and Fenrir growled at her, smirking.

"Always ready to fight, aren't you?" he said approvingly, grabbing her arm tightly, "Let's go. I have a present for you."

Eloise tugged as if trying to get away. She really wasn't trying to but it was habit. She hated being grabbed.

They disapparated.

* * *

Fenrir and Eloise reappeared at the edge of a forest, the big wizard releasing her. Eloise looked around. Night was falling.

"This isn't where you brought me last time," she said looking at the open field.

"No, it isn't," the werewolf replied, walking over to a clump of bushes and digging through it, frowning as he scented another werewolf and finding the sack he'd left there gone. He let out a vicious snarl.

"Stolen! Gods damn it…I've got to find that sack," Fenrir roared, "And Lupin. He's around here somewhere, gods damn it. I'm going to rip him to shreds!"

Fenrir turned to Eloise who was staring at him. Fenrir was so enraged he was foaming at the mouth.

"You stay here!" he ordered her, then took off at a lope into the forest, his huge bulk disappearing between the trees.

Eloise stared after him for a moment, then curiously walked up to the clump of bushes. She could smell blood strongly here. She breathed in deeply, her mouth watering again.

Downwind, across the field, Remus Lupin laid stretched out in the grass, watching the woman, breathing in her scent, every sense focused on her.

Remus had found a burlap sack in those same bushes, the smell of blood strong. He opened it to find the dismembered body of a young woman. She had been torn into pieces. The desire to take a bite of the dripping flesh was almost overpowering, but Remus resisted. He reached in and took out the head. The mouth was slack and contorted, the hair matted with congealed blood. Remus took out his wand and scourgified it then studied it carefully before putting it back in the sack. He would send a pensieve to Dumbledore to let him know a woman had been murdered by Fenrir.

He couldn't bring the body in himself. He would be blamed for the death. He then carried the sack into the forest, taking a winding, convoluted route because he knew whoever the remains belonged to would be back for them. The wizard backtracked, leapt aside and did all manner of things to twist up the trail, then finally, deep in the forest, used his wand to dig a hole and buried the woman.

"I'm sorry it couldn't be more," he said softly to the mound, "But hopefully someone will come find you after I contact Albus."

There was nothing else Remus could do but go deeper into the forest and convolute his trail even more, then apparate back to the field to hide and wait to see who came to claim the sack. It figured it was Fenrir. But he hadn't expected the werewolf to bring company.

"She's a werewolf," Remus breathed to himself as he watched Eloise digging through the bushes. He had never seen her at the village and she wasn't a witch…he could tell. Most likely another poor soul Fenrir had purposely bitten. It made sense though. There weren't many attractive bitches in their group or fertile ones. Remus knew Fenrir wanted to breed and women who became werewolves were immediately sterilized by the Ministry as soon as they were discovered to keep them from bearing children. No doubt Fenrir had turned this muggle with the intent on making her his mate.

Suddenly the woman straightened and turned toward the horizon, wrapping her arms around herself as the glow of the rising moon made itself known. Remus watched as her flesh began to bubble, surprised she didn't scream more. It seemed she wasn't trying to fight the transformation. Dear gods…was she as blood-thirsty as Fenrir and embracing becoming a werewolf? It seemed so.

Eloise writhed as the moon rose fully, the monochromatic light washing over her. With a shuddering cry that turned into a long, forlorn, the woman transformed fully, her bones locking backward and clothing disappearing, brown fur sprouting, muzzle elongating.

In the forest, Fenrir heard Eloise's transformation, but continued looking for the muggle he'd killed, the moonlight unable to reach him through the dense foliage. He'd get to Eloise in time.

Remus watched as Eloise dropped to all fours panting. The moon's light hadn't hit him yet but was quickly flooding towards him. He braced himself as the light and pain hit him, willing himself not to scream as his bones cracked and reformed, his jaw loosened then jutted forward, his clothing melting away and skin itching furiously as thick fur sprouted. He staggered back, forcing down a howl then dropped to all fours, slinking forward toward the female werewolf, who had returned to the clump of bushes, digging at them furiously with her claws.

As Remus crept forward, the wind changed and Eloise let out a snarl, spinning, her yellow eyes scanning the field. She saw the werewolf crawling toward her and bared her teeth. But she had some of her senses. She knew this werewolf wasn't Fenrir.

Remus raised himself slightly, his tail wagging submissively as Eloise rose to her hind legs, her body rigid and tail stiff as she watched his approach. Whoever the woman was, in her werewolf form she was a definite Alpha female. Remus hunched forward carefully, keeping his head low and not meeting her eyes in deference.

Eloise relaxed slightly, then dropped to all fours and began moving forward toward Remus, who tried to make himself appear even smaller, finally rolling to his back as Eloise approached him stiff-legged, her neck arched and teeth bared threateningly.

Remus whined and lay still as possible as the bitch reached him.

Eloise stared down at him and Remus licked his lips repeatedly in another sign of submission. Eloise stopped showing her teeth and walked up to him, touching the tip of her nose to his. Remus licked her a little and she snarled so he stopped. Then she began to sniff him all over, from the top of his furry head, to the tip of his hind paws, spending some time snuffling his genital area as the werewolf was aroused, the pink tip of his large erection showing.

Finally she back away and sat on her haunches, looking at him.

Remus knew he had to lead Eloise away to safety before Fenrir returned and transformed. He could easily beat Remus since he was bigger, but Remus was faster. It was doubtful Fenrir would be able to kill him, but the wizard wanted to get the bitch away from him.

Remus rolled to his feet, and jumped down playfully. Eloise stared at him, unmoving, but making no threatening gestures. Remus wriggled and hopped up to her, then away, trying to draw her into a game. Eloise cocked her head at him and Remus started acting a fool, leaping and zigzagging up to her, touching his nose to hers and springing away. Eloise's haunches started quivering as the werewolf's play started affecting her. Suddenly, she ran at him, leaping over him and spinning, a slight snarl of play on her face. Remus ran a little distance, then came back, pawing at her. Eloise pawed back and Remus rolled over several times in quick succession, panting at her as if laughing when he returned to his feet. He didn't stand however. That would be a dominating act. Eloise suddenly ran past him and Remus gave chase. They ran over the fields and in between the trees, Remus slowly leading her to Rubin's farm and the charmed barn. If he could get her in there, they'd both be safe from Fenrir, for once closed, the bars wouldn't open until sunrise. Remus would be able to use his wand then and he was more than a match for Fenrir magically.

Eloise followed the werewolf happily, contorting and frisking in the moonlight as the farm came into view. Remus ran into the open door of the barn, Eloise stopping just outside the door, looking inside as Remus bobbed and enticed her to follow him. Slowly, cautiously she slunk in, looking around. Remus walked into the enclosure, whining at Eloise, who just looked at him.

Normally the door to the enclosure would have closed magically at Remus' entry, but the magic sensed two creatures that needed to be confined, so the door remained open. Remus walked to the corner of the cage and picked up a large, bloody beef bone and whined at Eloise before cracking the end of it with his powerful teeth.

Eloise smelled the blood and slowly entered the cell, walking toward Remus stiff-legged again. He dropped the bone and crept back against the wall as Eloise grabbed the bone with a snarl, then lay down in the fresh straw, cracking the bone and lapping the sweet marrow within. Both the cell door and barn door closed, effectively locking them in. Remus stared at the bitch, his mating instinct strong. He whined slightly, Eloise looking over her shoulder at him coldly then continuing gnawing the bone.

Remus knew he didn't stand a chance. He wasn't dominating enough. Besides, he couldn't impregnate her. That was against the law and the Ministry would remove her offspring before they were even born. But, in the morning he would try to convince her to register with the Ministry. It would be some protection against Fenrir and she would have help coping with her malady. She would be monitored in the muggle world as well and escorted to the wizarding world the day of transformation. The only problem was, would she want to do this, considering they would sterilize her and she would never be able to have children?

Remus lay down and placed his head on his paws, studying the bitch for a moment. Then his yellow eyes flicked toward the door of the barn.

No doubt Fenrir would be on his way soon.

Fenrir located the body of the muggle, but it was filthy with dirt and worms. Lupin had dumped out the parts and arranged them in the earth carefully as if trying to reconstruct the victim. He ruined the meat. Disgusted, Fenrir searched for Lupin for a while before giving up and loping back toward the field. The moment he burst through the trees the moonlight hit him, the wizard transforming with a blood-curdling howl. His howl wasn't tormented because of the transformation, but because Eloise was gone…

…and he could smell Lupin.

* * *

A/N: Aw shucks now. Remus Lupin in the house. He's stolen Eloise right from under Fenrir's nose. Man oh man. Someone's not going to be a happy werewolf. Thanks for reading. 


	10. Part 10

**A Song for Severus Part 10**

It didn't take Fenrir long to pick up Remus' and Eloise's scents, and the werewolf tracked them, growling at the convoluted path they took. It was easy to tell they had been playing together, Eloise obviously taken by the lesser werewolf. Damn it…if Remus had mated with her, Fenrir would kill them both. He wouldn't take a chance that another werewolf fathered offspring for the muggle.

Shit. Eloise just…just ran off with him. The werewolf snarled, though inwardly he knew Eloise had not subjected herself to him or recognized herself as his mate. Fenrir had taken her, yes, but it had been violent and forced, the werewolf locking down on the scruff of her neck and holding her in place painfully as he mated with her. She ran from him the moment she was released and he had to catch her and bully her back to the cave with him. Eloise had no recollection of this, but that didn't matter. Fenrir had hoped to cement her bond to him by feeding her human flesh. As a provider of such delicious fare, Eloise might have latched on to him then.

Now Remus was trying to fuck up his plans. He should have killed the wizard when he was a child, rather than turned him. He would have if he had known what a bleeding heart the whelp would have turned out to be. Remus believed werewolves should live in harmony with humans…but the humans mistreated them at every turn. Such as banning them from entering certain institutions, and if they were allowed to enter, they had to do so following signs such as "Werewolves Enter Here," regulated to back rooms away from the public. Even the Ministry had a "back door' for werewolves to enter and Aurors with clubs abounded, ready to beat them viciously if so much as a snarl came out of them, transformed or not.

It was the sterilization that Fenrir hated the most. There was no proof that werewolf children turned, simply because no werewolf had been allowed to breed in centuries. Pregnant bitches were killed in the old days, now their offspring were magically removed and their wombs sealed to prevent further impregnation. It was as if the Ministry was trying to kill them off systematically. But still at least they were no longer hunted. The "good" werewolves. Still, there were those that believed that the only good werewolf was a skinned werewolf.

Fenrir hated all humans and believe the werewolves should rule. Humans were prey. Soft, weak prey without their wands.

Lupin was a turncoat…a lap dog. Willing to take the guff the wizarding world dished out to him in order to be "accepted" when he was the top of the food chain. The fool. And now he found the balls to steal a bitch that Fenrir had claimed? Remus had to smell him on her, and it didn't matter? He felt no fear? Fenrir growled deep in his throat as he approached the farm. Well, it would matter when he found them.

The werewolf tracked them straight to the barn. He stood on his hind legs and looked at the wooden door. It didn't offer much protection. Fenrir ran back a distance, then charged the door. It would splinter like it was made of matchsticks once he hit it.

Both Remus and Eloise leapt up startled when the entire barn shuddered as Fenrir hit the door. It should have shattered just as Fenrir thought, except it was charmed and warded against entry by werewolves. Rubin could have opened the door and walked right in…but not Fenrir. He was cursed.

Fenrir stood in front of the door, stunned that it didn't fly open. He snarled, backed up and charged it again to no avail. Both Remus and Eloise could smell him now, the ruff on both wolves' necks raised in reaction, Remus snarling viciously as Fenrir continued to batter the door. Eloise looked at him for several moments.

Presently the battering stopped, and Remus' ear flicked as he heard a noise on the roof, then frantic scratching. Fenrir was on top of the barn, trying to tear through the charmed roofing, to no avail. The werewolf let out a howl of frustration as he scrabbled at the wood, not even putting a scratch in it. He leapt down and tried digging under the barn, but the earth wouldn't budge. He couldn't make a simple gouge in the earth.

Fenrir sat on his haunches and snarled impotently at the charmed barn, then his great shaggy head swung toward the farmer's house. The wizard inside would be able to get into the barn. Fenrir padded over and attempted to batter down Rubin's door only to find himself in great pain as the silver threading did its work, burning the transformed wizard. Fenrir circled the house several times, but the threading was everywhere. Snarling again, he made for the barn where the animals were housed, intending on slaughtering every one in retribution. Again he was thwarted by the silver threading.

Whoever this farmer was, he knew how to protect himself from werewolves. Fenrir padded back over to the barn that held Eloise, sat down in front of it and howled for his bitch longingly, scratching at the door on occasion so she would know he was out there.

Eloise cocked her head, listening, but didn't answer Fenrir although she could smell Fenrir's dominance. He was bigger and stronger than the wolf she was with, but there was something foggy in her brain that disliked him despite his worthiness.

Instead Remus howled back insolently, mockingly, which made Fenrir almost insane with anger and again he charged the door. Rubin pulled back the curtain and saw the large werewolf attacking the barn, recognizing him instantly. The farmer let the curtain fall back and returned to his armchair, laying his wand across his lap. Why was Fenrir trying to get to Remus? No doubt the bigger werewolf wanted to kill him. Well, Remus was safe and Fenrir would be gone by sunrise. He was a hunted wizard after all. Rubin could summon the Aurors but Fenrir would escape them and be bent on revenge because they had been summoned to capture him. Rubin didn't need that.

He would find out was what going on in the morning. If it were something too terrible, Remus would have to find someplace else to stay during his transformation.

Fenrir eventually tired himself out and flopped panting in front of the barn. He couldn't get in and would have to leave by morning. Damn it. He hoped he hadn't lost the bitch. Eloise would be good breeding stock if she wasn't ruined by Remus. Fenrir didn't believe she would accept the lesser wolf…at least…not in one night. Some Alpha females would mate with a lesser wolf on occasion although not pair off with him. Remus would have to work on Eloise to be acceptable. He had to have time to do this. If the idiot convinced her to register with the Ministry however, she would lose her value to Fenrir because she would no longer be allowed to conceive. At least, that is what he believed would happen.

Fenrir flopped on his side, exhausted and closed his eyes. He would stay there as long as possible. Tomorrow was the day the Death Eaters were to draw the names of their initial opponents for the competition. Eloise would have to wait. So would Remus.

He'd pay for this insult.

* * *

The next morning, a groggy Eloise woke up, spitting straw out of her mouth. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She was fully dressed and looked around. Where was she? In a…a cage? Splinters of a large bone lay scattered next to her. She looked down at it, remembering chewing on it. She also remembered another werewolf…not Fenrir. 

"You're up," a soft male voice said.

Eloise quickly rose to her feet and looked on the other side of the cage. Remus Lupin was sitting in the corner, looking at her with his gentle eyes. Eloise prepared herself for a fight, but the man didn't move.

"Who are you and where am I?" she demanded, her hands crooking into claws.

"My name is Remus Lupin. You are in a special holding cell for werewolves. I come here to transform every month during the full moon," Remus said, still not rising. It appeared the muggle was just as volatile as a woman as she was a werewolf.

Eloise looked at the door of the cell. It was wide open.

"Doesn't seem a very effective holding cell," she said, relaxing a bit.

Remus Lupin didn't seem threatening at all. He was a werewolf? He didn't smell as strong as Fenrir but she could detect the wolf scent on him. Nor did he seem aggressive.

Wait? Remus Lupin? This was the wizard Fenrir had told her about. The one he considered weak and foolish because he wouldn't embrace his werewolf side. Eloise studied him.

"How did I end up here?" she asked him, vaguely remembering running through the field with the werewolf.

"You followed me. We were playing in the moonlight. I didn't force you here," Remus said, slowly rising now and straightening his robes, "I brought you here to get you away from Fenrir."

"And he let you?" she asked Remus.

"Not exactly. By the time he realized you were gone, it was too late. Oh, he came after you…but couldn't get to you. This place is protected by magic. No werewolves can enter or leave once this cage shuts. It opens when our transformation is past," Remus said, approaching the muggle.

"Are you hungry?" he asked Eloise.

Eloise's brown eyes ran over him. Yes, she was very hungry.

"What do you have to eat?" she asked him.

"The farmer who lets this barn out to me often makes me breakfast after the night has passed. I am quite weak afterwards," Remus said.

Eloise looked at him closely. He was rather pale and looked a bit sick. She didn't think he could do much if he did try to attack her. Yet he didn't seem the type. She looked at the open barn door.

"How do we know Fenrir isn't out there lying in wait," Eloise asked him.

"Fenrir isn't patient. If he were here, he would already have attacked us…but I could have handled him," Remus said, showing her his wand, "I am his match magically if not physically."

Suddenly Remus stumbled at bit. Not thinking, Eloise rushed forward to help him, catching his arm and helping him straighten.

"I need to eat," he said softly, "The wolfsbane potion I drink before I transform takes a lot out of me when it stifles my wolf instincts."

Eloise began to help the wizard out of the cage. Wolfsbane?

"What is wolfsbane potion?" she asked him as they walked out of the barn.

Rubin, who had been sitting on the porch with two rare steaks waiting for Remus to appear, did a double take. There was a woman with him. Now he understood why Fenrir had been after the wizard. No doubt she was a werewolf too and somehow, Remus had taken her.

Shit.

Rubin hurried over to the picnic table resting under a tree in the yard, Eloise taking in the stout, red-faced wizard. He was dressed in a plaid shirt, coverall and boots. He had a healthy look about him. He set the steaks down and waited for them to walk over, his eyes curious as they rested on Eloise.

Remus sat down and slid over for Eloise, who looked first at the steaks, then at Rubin who returned her gaze. Then he stuck out his hand.

"I'm Rubin Fezwig. I own this farm and that barn you just walked out of. What is your name?" he asked her directly.

Eloise hesitated, then realized the farmer knew her nature. She shook his hand.

"My name is Eloise Hedgeberry," she said shortly.

Rubin gestured at the steaks.

"Sit down and have a steak. It's important to eat after a transformation, particularly if you haven't fed," he said knowledgably, "Though I have to say you look much better than Remus here."

Remus had already picked up a steak in his bare hands and was tearing into it unabashedly, blood running down his chin. He was starved and didn't care how he looked to anyone at this moment. He needed to eat to regain his strength. Rubin pulled out a pocketful of napkins and placed them on the table. Eloise looked at Remus tearing through the steak then sat down and reached for the plate. Remus growled a little, but let her take it, the brunette looking at him with a small scowl. Shit, she was hungry too.

Rubin watched as Eloise lit into the steak. She was a bit neater than Remus, grabbing a napkin to wipe her chin as she ate, but just as ravenous. Even more so. She finished her steak the same time as Remus did.

"Thank you, Rubin," he said to the farmer, who had also sat down, looking at the both of them.

"You're welcome, son," the farmer said, then looked at Eloise.

"So how long have you been a werewolf?" he asked Eloise, who looked at him a bit shocked. She had never discussed her situation with anyone, and this man was approaching it so…so normally.

"This is the second time I've changed," she said, "I haven't been one long."

Rubin and Remus exchanged looks, then Rubin continued.

"You're a muggle aren't you? Non-magic," he said to her.

"No, I can't do magic. I didn't even believe in it until this happened to me," Eloise admitted. "That bastard Fenrir turned me into one."

Remus nodded.

"He did this to me as well. I was only five when he bit me to get back at my father," the wizard said, his eyes hardening.

"Only five? You've lived with this all your life? How?" Eloise said.

"The best way I could," Remus replied, "It hasn't been easy, and there were times I thought about taking the coward's way out…but I kept going."

Eloise studied him. Suicide? She hadn't thought about that. The only thing she thought about was getting revenge on Fenrir for doing this to her.

"I want to kill the bastard," Eloise hissed, black veins appearing in her eyes for a moment, startling both Rubin and Remus with her hatred.

"Calm down," Rubin said nervously as Eloise's eyes returned to their normal brown color. "I'm sure you're not alone in wanting to kill Fenrir. He's made a lot of werewolves and a lot of enemies."

"So why don't they get together and kill him?" Eloise asked, frowning at the thought there were others who wanted the monster dead.

"Too frightened of failure," Remus said, "Fenrir is very powerful, very vicious. He kills humans even when he's not transformed. He likes it. He killed yesterday, intending on feeding the remains to you to hook you on human blood. It's hard to fight your urges once you've tasted it."

Eloise's eyes shifted guiltily. She had already tasted human blood and found it delicious. She didn't say anything, which made Rubin and Remus look at each other again. Had she already killed? If she had…more than likely she was a lost cause.

Remus cleared his throat and looked at the woman.

"Er…Eloise, I have to ask you this…have you killed a human being yet?" he asked the muggle.

Eloise shook her head.

"No, but I beat one almost to the point of death," she admitted, "He had raped me years ago and I recognized him on the tube. He came back to finish the job because he didn't want me to identify him. He had a new life and decided it would be best to end mine. He didn't succeed."

Eloise looked decidedly dark as she said this.

"Did you taste his blood?" Remus asked her, watching her face carefully.

Eloise hesitated. Should she tell them? She decided to do it. Remus was also a werewolf. He knew the urge for blood.

"Yes. There was blood left in my flat after they took him out. I couldn't help myself," she admitted, looking ashamed.

"You must never, ever, ever tell anyone you've tasted human blood! Do you understand me?" Remus suddenly snarled at her. Rubin's eyes were sober but he didn't say anything. "A werewolf who has tasted human blood is locked away until the day he or she dies, and they don't do anything to make you last if you know what I mean."

In the bowels of Azkaban prison was an area for werewolves. They were half-fed and mistreated, allowed to live in their own filth for much of the time until the smell became unbearable and they were hosed down along with their cells, left shivering, cold and much of the time ill. They never saw the sun. Since the moonlight never hit them, they remained in human form but eventually became more animalistic because of their harsh treatment. It was a horrible way to live and many took their own lives.

Eloise nodded, her eyes wide.

"Now, you have a decision to make," Remus said to her, "Fenrir is going to be angry that I took you and may want revenge or at least to punish you for going with me. Most likely he is afraid you've mated with me and are pregnant. You are in danger. If you return to the muggle world, most likely he will go for you."

Eloise looked at him.

"So what am I supposed to do?" she asked the werewolf.

Remus took a deep breath.

"Since a wizard turned you into a werewolf, the Ministry of Magic has some responsibility toward you. If you register with them, you can have some protection. However, werewolves are not treated well. There are…prejudices and laws that prohibit us from interacting fully in society. Most will not hire us for work and we aren't allowed in certain places. We have to show we have someplace to go far from the population when the full moon approaches. Most stay in the werewolf village. Me, I come here," Remus said.

Eloise frowned at this. Prejudice? She'd be nothing more than a second class citizen.

"And," Remus said haltingly, "If you do register, you will be sterilized so you can't bear children."

"What?" Eloise said, rising from the table, "Sterilized? Without my consent?"

Remus nodded slowly, then looked thoughtful.

"However, you are not a citizen of the magical world but a citizen of muggle Britain. They might not arbitrarily be allowed to treat you as they would a witch. Not if it broke the laws of your people," the werewolf said, "I would have to ask Albus about that."

"Albus? Who's Albus?" she asked.

"A very influential and powerful wizard. Also a friend of mine," Remus said, "It could be the Ministry cannot force you to be sterilized since you belong to another system of government. Although a wizard bit you, it does not necessarily put you under wizarding law. Do you want children?"

Eloise looked at Remus and sat back down.

"I want the right to make a decision later," she said evenly, "In Britain and most every civilized society it's illegal to sterilize a woman against her will."

Well, she was almost sure this was the case. Eloise hadn't really thought about having a husband or children, but having the ability to conceive taken away arbitrarily didn't sit well with her. She wanted a choice in the matter. Suddenly, her ovaries felt very precious.

"I will have to contact Albus then," Remus said, "Now the next question is, do you want to return to the muggle world and face the possibility of being taken by Fenrir, or do you wish to stay in the wizarding world until you can be set right?"

The truth was, Eloise was hanging on to her job by a thread. There had been numerous complaints about her attitude lately. She was short and nasty to customers a lot of the time, forcing them to pay for candy they'd eaten…she could smell it on them, growling at cat owners and at times, giving off an unpleasant animal-like odor. The owner wanted to let her go. If she lost her job, she'd lose her flat…and the idea of moving in with her sister and "perfect husband" made her shudder.

"If I decided to remain here, where would I stay?" she asked the werewolf.

Remus looked at her. Gods, if only she could stay with him. But he had a studio flat with one bed in the middle of Knockturn Alley…a quite unsavory location even for a werewolf. Plus he was gone early each day, looking for odd jobs to do.

Rubin stared at the young woman.

"You could stay here. For a while. Help me with the farm work if you don't mind getting your hands dirty. That would cover your room and board," he said, "But it's not easy work."

Eloise studied the farmer. He looked like a respectable old man…but still…

Rubin seemed to sense what she was thinking.

"You'd be safe here. I like my women older and magical," the farmer said to her with a smirk. "You're a child compared to me. I'm no pedophile."

Eloise relaxed and gave him a smile. Besides, if he tried anything, she could simply kick his ass all over the farm.

"It sounds like a plan," she said, "but it will just be temporary, right Remus?"

Remus started, having been swept away by a little daydream of he and Eloise sequestered in close quarters together. She was a werewolf. She'd be able to deal with his nature. He blinked at her, registering what she said.

"Yes. I need to talk to Albus and let him advise me what would be best to do," Remus said, "Usually he responds quickly."

Eloise nodded and looked at Rubin.

"What would be the sleeping arrangements?" she asked him.

Rubin's forehead wrinkled.

"You would have to stay in the barn Remus uses. My house is protected by silver. You can't stay there. Even if you don't touch it, it will affect you because of your proximity. Every wall has silver thread running through it. But I can fix it up to be homier. Put in a bed, lamps, things of that nature. You're going to have to go to the bathroom outside though," the farmer said.

That wouldn't be so bad, unless it was raining. It rained a lot too. Ah well, it was better than nothing.

"That will be fine, Rubin," she said, feeling Remus' gentle eyes on her.

She looked at him and he quickly looked away. The wizard certainly seemed shy. But he looked better now. Eating had helped and he had more color. The wizard stood up.

"Well, I had better go. I will come back and let you know what Albus suggested as the best course of action," Remus said, stepping back from the table.

"When will you be back?" Eloise asked him, feeling a bit concerned he was leaving. Remus was another werewolf. She felt…well…she didn't know how she felt he was going. But his presence was comforting, unlike Fenrir's, who made her feel on edge all the time.

"Within the week. Goodbye Rubin, Eloise," he said, disapparating with a crack of thunder. Eloise blinked at the empty spot. Magic was something else.

She and Rubin sat there a moment, before the farmer rose, collecting the plate and dirty napkins.

"You can start straightening up the cell," he said to the muggle. "I'll be out shortly and then we can get about setting it up to be more livable."

Eloise nodded as the wizard walked into the house. She sat at the table with her chin resting on her hand. Damn, what a situation she was in. It was a whole new world now.

Eloise wasn't sure she was ready for it, but would do what she had to do.

Fenrir wasn't in the clear at all. Maybe with Remus' help she could get revenge. He had bitten the wizard after all. Maybe he was courageous enough to be willing to try to kill the werewolf.

She'd have to find out.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore straightened his black robes and combed through his beard with his fingers. His hair was neatly combed and he wore a black pointed hat. His blue eyes were somber and without twinkle as he knocked on the heavy wooden door emblazed with a serpent. After several moments a house elf opened the door and looked up at him. Relief flooded the creature's face. 

"Comes in, sir," the elf said, opening the door, "Is very glad to see you sir. You is needed."

Albus nodded to the elf and strode inside the Manor, then waited for the creature to close the door and lead him to Draco's study. He could hear the portraits whispering as he passed, and not all they said were good. Albus did not adhere to the pureblood superiority line and most of the portraits felt him a traitor. However he ignored the hisses and continued on.

When Malina visited, Draco put a silencing spell on his forebears so she wouldn't hear their insults. He wouldn't have to do that any longer. No doubt they were delighted by her death…but not one would openly gloat. In Draco's current condition he might tear them from the wall and destroy them.

The house elf pushed open the study door.

"Master, the great Albus Dumbledore has arrives for you," the elf announced to an armchair facing the fire.

"Come in, Headmaster and sit down," Draco said in a tired, thick voice. He had been up most of the night, finding comfort in firewhiskey. The elves managed to get him to eat something. Albus walked over to the armchairs and saw they had been pulled back and a long table draped in green and silver rested before the fireplace. Draco stared at it.

"That is where Malina will be laid out," Draco said, his bloodshot eyes turning toward the Headmaster as he sat down, "Then I will bury her in the rose garden."

Albus looked at Draco for a long moment.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Draco. Malina Pascal was a special witch. She came to me when she ran away from home. She was quite resourceful to find us without help or a wand. However, her parents had poisoned her mind so much against Hogwarts it was apparent she would be unable to attend school here, and I took her instead to a school of the Arts from which she graduated. She was a marvelous talent. I mourn her loss," the Headmaster said gently.

Draco didn't even wonder how Albus knew about him and Malina. He just knew the Headmaster knew like he knew most things.

"Draco, I know how you felt about Malina. You loved her…however…" the Headmaster said, hesitating for a moment so Draco looked at him.

"…you cannot hold her funeral in your Manor. It would compromise you. Remember, you are a Death Eater. You cannot openly mourn a muggle-born. It will bring up all types of questions and at this point, when we are so close to ending their madness…we can't afford that," the wizard said gently.

Draco's eyes shifted back to the draped table.

"But I want her here," he said brokenly, "Just for a bit longer."

Albus shook his head.

"You can secretly inter her on the Manor grounds Draco and have a public memorial service at the funeral parlor. There are many people she worked with in the music industry who would like to say their goodbyes. It can be said her body was cremated and her ashes scattered. That will be accepted. But you cannot be a visible part of it. If you like, I will handle everything for you. I believe that will be best," Albus said.

Draco frowned at him.

"I have to abandon her too, then. Like her family did," he said bitterly, "I have to pretend I didn't know her, didn't love her, didn't…didn't…want her forever…"

Albus' eyes glistened at the pain in Draco's voice.

"Yes, Draco…because there are the living to think of," he said softly.

"Fuck the living!" Draco shouted, leaping up, "The hell with everyone! Everyone!"

He stormed over to the liquor cabinet to fix himself yet another firewhiskey, and scowled when he found the bottle empty.

"More firewhiskey!" Draco bellowed.

Almost immediately, a house elf with flattened ears winked in with a fresh bottle. Draco snatched it and wrested it open, sloppily filling his glass as the elf looked at Albus sadly and winked out.

"You don't mean that my boy," Albus said as Draco tossed down his drink, "That is grief speaking. Rage and anger at the senseless loss of the woman you love, Draco. It's understandable. But, you hold a very important position, one you've worked hard to maintain and all your hard work is about to come to fruition."

Draco looked at him.

"It wasn't senseless, Headmaster. It was murder. That bastard Felix used a carpet that was shoddily put together for that photo shoot. He's going to pay for that," Draco said with murder in his eyes. "Galleons were more important to him than Dirty Magic's lives. Than Malina's life."

Albus looked at Draco worriedly. Felix had spent millions of galleons to get the Ministry to ease up on the restrictions on Magic Carpets. Finally, they did so, people required to apply for a special luxury license to own one, and the carpets were highly taxed. In order to fly, one had to register the date, time, length of travel, place of departure and destination two weeks in advance, and it had to be on the weekend. With such restrictions, the Ministry believed they could monitor the carpets within reason and that the public wouldn't want to go through all the paperwork and processes. But they were wrong. Carpets were popular despite the costs and procedures.

But the main problem was, Felix himself hadn't bothered to register the photo shoot, in his never-ending attempt to save money. It was to be held over his own property and last only ten minutes at the most. He couldn't see spending thousands of galleons for that. The cost would be increased because of the size of the carpet. Also, since it was custom-made, it would have to have been inspected and that would have taken more money and time. Now with his business closed and being up on numerous charges, Felix most likely wished he had been more legitimate. Most likely he would end up in Azkaban, if Draco didn't get to him first.

"Draco, you aren't thinking properly. Let the Ministry handle it. Felix will have to pay reparation for the damage he's caused, and most likely faces a long prison term," Albus said, trying to defuse the angry wizard.

Draco snarled at Albus.

"Reparations? You mean Malina's parents will receive monetary recompense for the death of a daughter they disowned? That's sick, Headmaster…sick and wrong," he spat.

Draco could see William Pascal accepting money for Malina's death, despite mistreating her and forcing her to flee her home and her world. The blonde wizard shook with rage.

"It's all so twisted, so wrong, so unfair," he said, his voice quavering as he returned to his armchair. The firewhiskey had ceased to affect him and misery was the only emotion he felt now. Of course the Headmaster was right. He couldn't have Malina's funeral at the Manor. He would have to glamour himself at the memorial service as well.

Albus reached into his robes and produced a parchment for Draco to sign. It would give him the right to make Malina's final arrangements.

"Sign this, Draco. It will remove you from suspicion. I will arrange everything, down to the private burial on these grounds," he said gently.

Draco took the parchment from him and walked over to his desk. There were quills but he had muggle pens in the top drawer as well. He sat down and opened the drawer. There was a piece of parchment covering the pens. He took it out, put it on top of his desk then took out a pen and signed the form, giving Albus full responsibility over Malina's remains. He put the pen back in the drawer, rose and walked over to Albus, handing him the parchment.

Albus read it over, then folded it and placed it in his robes pocket. He rose and looked at Draco.

"Thank you, Draco," he said, gazing at him with affection, "I know you are a full grown wizard my boy, but at times like this…"

Albus opened his arms. Draco stared at him, his face contorting with mixed emotions as he looked at the wizard's open arms and felt his offer for comfort. The last embrace he had was from Malina. Dear, sweet, dead Malina. He needed human contact…someone to make him feel he wasn't completely alone in the world, someone who understood how much pain he was in.

Suddenly Draco flung himself into the old wizard's embrace, clutching at him. Albus patted Draco's back as the wizard's hands pulled and twisted the fabric of his robes, the wizard groaning, then choking on his own sobs. After about five minutes, Draco pulled away from Albus, wiping his eyes and not looking at the wizard.

Albus looked on Draco with kind eyes.

"This may not seem true now, Draco…but it will get easier…and better. The good memories will rise to the fore and Malina's love will be a balm to you all your life. People pass on, Draco…but true love…true love never dies," the Headmaster said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly, "She will always be with you."

Draco blinked at him.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he rasped as Albus released him and turned toward the study door. Draco walked forward to escort him out.

Albus turned and gave him a small smile.

"No, Draco. I can find my own way out. I believe there is something on your desk you need to see," the wizard said. He gave Draco a small wave and exited the room.

Draco turned and looked at his desk. The piece of parchment he'd taken out was lying there. Slowly he walked over to the desk, sat down and drew the paper toward him. He drank in the familiar handwriting.

It was a song. A song by Malina. She had left the unfinished lyrics in his desk, probably trying to hide it to keep him from seeing it before it was completed. Malina was always so protective of her work. Draco read the parchment slowly, savoring each written word, picturing Malina writing as he did so.

_A world so dark, the sun extinguished  
Lost, I had no place to go  
A tomb of silence screaming strongly  
pouring night into my soul_

_and then the strangest thing occurred  
suddenly my song was heard  
through the gray a hope was raised  
drawing me into the day_

_and it's said that every breath  
draws us closer to our death  
and so I breathe my love at you  
you are the only thing that's true_

_in my life  
in my life  
in my life_

_A world so bright, I do not languish  
Found, I've finally come home  
your scorching touch a resurrection  
pouring light into the tomb_

_And now the strangest thing occurs  
my life is tangled with your words  
and through the gray your hope was raised  
love the burn that fires the day_

_although it's said that every breath  
draws us closer to our death  
the final breath I ever take  
will never shatter never break_

_my love for you  
for you  
for you_

Draco read the words over and over, his heart swelling as he wiped his eyes. These were Malina's final words, and they were about finding hope, happiness and a love that would never die, one that would survive even death. It was comforting and he felt the tightness around his heart loosen just a bit.

The wizard drew in a shuddering breath and pressed the parchment against his lips, his eyes glistening. He stared down at the words.

"Thank you, Malina," Draco whispered softly, "Thank you for loving me."

* * *

Albus quickly arranged a memorial service for Malina which was attended by those she worked with in the studio, a few former classmates and fans of Dirty Magic who found out she often sang with them. It was a beautiful send off, a large picture of Malina scowling slightly on display, surrounded by roses as people walked by paying their respects. She hated taking pictures. 

There was no eulogy. Instead a few of her favorite songs were played, and one of her own…the song Hermione heard Valentine's night. When the song faded on its final haunting note, there wasn't a dry eye to be found. Everyone left, saying it had been a lovely memorial and Malina would be missed.

At the Manor, Draco watched as the house elves gently lowered Malina's casket into the earth magically. The wizard stood there somberly, her ring and necklace draped around his neck, a single rose clutched in his fist. He then looked at her headstone, and the image of the rose embraced by a serpent carved in the marble. The epitaph simply read: Malina Pascal, the Love of My Life.

Draco looked back at the grave and the white coffin resting within. He tossed in the rose and nodded to the elves, who filled it in with magic forming a smooth mound of earth above.

"You're home, Malina," Draco said, "Home forever."

The wizard swallowed, then sat down on a white bench near the grave, waving the house elves away. He sat there a long time…a very long time before returning to the Manor and his empty bed.

* * *

Pumbleberry hemmed and hawed importantly as each Death Eater drew a name out of a crimson silk bag with the Mordesmodre symbol embroidered on it in gold. Severus, who was sitting next to Rosier watched, his black eyes slightly bloodshot. It had been a horrible week for him. The revels had been worse than ever simply because the Death Eaters had cut back on kidnappings and only had a few victims who suffered horribly because so many abused them before they died. The Potions Master was so ready to leave, but he had to be here for this…the pairing off of opponents. 

Fenrir Greyback was there, and in a foul mood even for him…though he wouldn't say what was bothering him. Elizabeth was also there, her blue eyes resting on the werewolf with hatred.

"Fenrir. Please, Fenrir," she breathed as she reached into the bag. But alas, she chose another Death Eater…an Arnold Fizzbang. Arnold's hazel eyes washed over Elizabeth speculatively, an ugly look on his face.

"Dead witch," he mouthed at Elizabeth as his name was announced. No doubt he wanted to try to psychologically frighten the witch.

Elizabeth simply looked at him coolly and said, "Make your peace with the world, wizard. You'll be departing shortly."

Arnold turned red with rage.

Fenrir was facing off against Sharon Bugeon, a small red-haired witch with wild brown eyes. She looked insane as she rocked continuously, pulling her fingers through her hair. Small, mean and carrying a grudge against the world, Sharon believed ruling it would make life better for her. It couldn't get much worse. She stared at the werewolf.

Fenrir gave her a nasty, toothy grin. She wouldn't take long at all.

Eleven more Death Eaters chose their opponents, who were announced then sized each other up. When all the selections were made, Pumbleberry stood up.

"Erm…all opponents have been…erm…selected. You have…erm…two days to polish up. Friday night at…erm…midnight will be the first face-off. Erm…survivors will be paired off and continue the competition…erm…next Friday," the fat wizard said, sitting back down.

Rosier stood up.

"Please make sure you have left final instructions for interment and names of next of kin you want notified in the event of your death before you leave," he said.

The Death Eaters murmured among themselves, some walking over to a table with quills and parchment to make their final arrangements. Rosier sat back down and looked at Severus, who was paler than usual.

"You seem ready to go, Severus," the jeweler said to him.

The Potions Master nodded.

"It's been quite a week, Rosier," he replied.

Rosier gave a small smile.

"Yes. The revels this week were truly brutal due to the lack of victims. They almost turned even my stomach. Almost. Not quite. But a lot of steam was let off, and that's what's important. There won't be any more revels until the new Dark Lord is selected and in power, so our Death Eaters made sure to get their fill. A pity you couldn't participate, Severus…except to kill them. There is so much more to enjoy."

"My lack of participation is something I've learned to live with," Severus replied, rising, "Thank you for being such a gracious host. I will see you at the competition."

Rosier rose and shook Severus' hand.

"It was my pleasure, Severus. I will see you Friday," Rosier replied, "It should prove an exciting night."

"Indeed," Severus agreed, departing.

* * *

Panting heavily, Voltaire fell to the bed, exhausted and covered in sweat as Bellatrix shuddered next to him, lying face down, her bottom still in the air. Her back had several long scratches from Voltaire's nails and her buttocks were crimson from his beating. 

The young wizard lay next to her, waiting for his heart to slow. Bella turned her face toward him and smiled, her gray eyes cloudy with pleasure.

"You are as strong as your father, and you are still young," she said to him softly, "You please me, Voltaire."

The wizard's red eyes open and he looked at his aunt with his crimson eyes. His face snarled up.

"I am stronger than my father!" he hissed at her angrily.

"Yes…yes, Voltaire…you are," Bella said soothingly.

"And you should be more concerned about pleasing me," he said darkly, "I am the Dark Lord, not you."

"Yes, Voltaire. Of course I want to please you. I do, don't I?" Bella asked him softly.

"Yesssss," he replied, "I like doing you, aunt Bella."

"Then we are good for each other," the witch replied, "We will always be good for each other."

Since drinking the elixir, Voltaire had become more volatile and demanding…more like Voldemort. After shagging Bellatrix the first few times and dominating her…he had more confidence, even demanding sex now.

He was more powerful as well, destroying boulders with an almost careless flick of his wand. He had also blown all of his "opponents" to bits that Bella provided for dueling practice. In addition, four house elves had been killed since his transformation, just because Voltaire felt like killing them. He no longer spoke to Bellatrix with the deference he used to. There were no "pleases" or "thank yous" in his vocabulary any longer. He was now her Lord as well.

Voltaire studied his aunt, his eyes looking at her bruised and battered body and he smirked at his handiwork. His father had nothing on him and he still had much to learn about brutalizing women. Bella promised him he would have any woman he wanted as long as he kept her first.

Voltaire nodded at this, but felt he didn't have to keep anyone first. Not Bella…not anyone. But he was shrewd enough not to share his thoughts. His aunt was important now. She wouldn't always be.

"When will I go to my Death Eaters?" he demanded, "I am tired of waiting. I am ready to assume my throne," he snapped at the witch, who had rolled to her back, showing bitten breasts and belly.

"They are having the first competition Friday," Bella replied, "I think it best we wait to strike until they have the final two. You will kill them both and claim the throne."

"What about the others?" he hissed, his forked tongue flicking out.

Bella looked at him, her gray eyes narrowed now.

"The others? Are you afraid, Voltaire?" she asked, baiting him.

Voltaire stiffened when she asked him that, then suddenly slapped Bella hard in the mouth.

"I am not afraid! Of anyone! You forget yourself aunt Bella!" he screamed at her, rolling on top of her and straddling her belly, wrapping his hands around her throat and tightening his grip.

Bella grasped his wrists as she felt her air supply being cut off.

Voltaire choked her until she turned blue, then let go, panting angrily. Bella gasped, her heart pounding at his rage. He was beautiful…so much like his father, so cruel, so violent. She felt herself getting wet again as he frowned down at her, his crimson eyes glowing angrily.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Voltaire," she rasped, "The others will be too stunned to challenge you. You look so much like your father. And if any dares to try to attack you, he or she will be cut down by me."

"And Volaria?" he asked, his eyes still hard.

"After you assume the throne, we will find her…and kill her as well," Bella assured him.

Voltaire stared down at his aunt, relaxing somewhat. But she had angered him and had to pay. His organ began to writhe and he shifted forward, sitting on her breasts.

"You know what to do now, aunt Bella," he lisped, "Please me."

"Yes, my Lord," she replied, obediently opening her mouth.

He was so much like his father.

* * *

Severus apparated back to his rooms at Hogwarts and sighed with relief as he looked around his familiar bedroom. He pulled out his wand and immediately divestoed his clothing. Naked, he strode into the bathroom, turned on the shower as hot as he could stand it, then entered, standing under the stream, his head lowered, letting the water wash over his hair, face and body as if it could cleanse him of all the blood he felt immersed in. 

He stood there so long, the water began to cool, then he roused himself, grabbing his washcloth and soap before the shower went completely cold. He bathed, rinsed and exited the stall, grabbing a towel and drying off. Wrapping another towel around his waist, he opened his medicinal store, took out a bottle of replenishing potion and drank a bit down. He put the bottle back, brushed his teeth and exited the bathroom.

Now his thoughts turned to Hermione. He wasn't sure if he should reveal he was back yet, though he was sure Albus knew he was. The wizard didn't know where they stood really, although Hermione had given herself to him before he left. It was a peace offering, but as of yet…no treaty had been made. He wondered how far she'd gotten with her project. Where there Voldemort-like pixies drifting about in her labs? And the young Riddle witch…he wondered if Hermione kept a tight rein on her. She better have.

Severus looked at the clock hanging on his bedroom wall. It was after ten. Hermione was most likely in her rooms babysitting Volaria. He frowned slightly. He could use some physical contact and emotional comfort from the witch. But more than likely she wouldn't leave Volaria alone…and he knew instinctively Hermione wouldn't let him into her bedroom with the girl there.

Severus sighed, removed his towel and climbed into bed, sliding under the sheets. He would see Hermione in the morning. His tool protested this decision.

"There's nothing else for it," the Potions Master breathed, closing his eyes.

The wizard was more exhausted than he thought. He fell instantly asleep.

* * *

Hermione was indeed in her rooms, watching as Volaria climbed into bed, smiling. 

"Professor Flitwick says I know the basics just fine and we'll be able to start working on spells at our next session," the young witch gushed, "I'm so excited!"

Hermione smiled at the young witch. She had started lessons with Professor Flitwick who tested her and gave her some additional study work. He found the witch very bright and enthusiastic. And he had absolute conniptions about Volaria's wand.

"Amazing," he breathed as he caressed it, "Two phoenix feathers! What a powerful, powerful wand. Beautiful crafting as well. You, my dear, must be quite gifted to have such a wand. We are going to bring your gifts out of you…never fear."

Volaria had been overjoyed. True, Professor Flitwick was the smallest person she had ever seen, and at first she stared at him constantly…but the wizard showed her that he was big on knowledge and quite powerful himself. He'd be able to help her.

"That's wonderful, Volaria," Hermione said, "I want you to rest up and be ready for him tomorrow. All right?"

"Volaria nodded, snuggling down into her bed. She felt she would never sleep again.

Suddenly the flames in the floo turned green.

"Miss Granger?" Albus' voice called out.

"Yes, I'm here, Headmaster," Hermione answered him. Volaria sat up.

"I just wanted to let you know Severus has returned," the old wizard said. He was sitting in his office, his blue eyes twinkling brightly.

"He has?" Hermione said surprised, "How long has he been back?"

"I believe he arrived around an hour and a half ago," the wizard replied.

"Thank you for telling me, sir," Hermione said, her brow furrowed.

"You're very welcome, Miss Granger. Good night. And good night Miss Ruddle," the Headmaster said.

Volaria smiled.

"Good night, Headmaster," she piped, laying back down and drawing the covers over herself. She looked at Hermione, who wore a rather perplexed expression.

"What's wrong?" Volaria asked the witch.

Hermione blinked at her as if she just realized Volaria was in the same room with her.

"Nothing," Hermione said shortly.

Volaria knew better than that, but said nothing.

Hermione was wondering why Severus didn't let her know he was back himself. Normally when he returned from a mission, he sought her out immediately, needing intimacy. But tonight he returned without saying anything. Was he still angry with her?

She had been busy while he was gone, but she still thought about him, wondering if he were safe, if he was able to deal with what was going on around him, and when he would return. Now he had returned and said nothing.

She looked at Volaria, then something clicked.

He probably didn't come to her because the young witch was here.

Hermione hesitated then said, "Volaria, are you afraid to stay here by yourself tonight? I…I have something I need to do…I…I…need to check on something…" she began.

"You mean Professor Snape?" the witch asked her.

"Ah…yes. And I don't know when I'll be back or if I'll be back," Hermione admitted, looking nervous. She didn't know if Volaria understood these things. But Volaria did.

"I'll be fine. I'm used to sleeping by myself," she said.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked her.

"Positive," Volaria replied, "I'm a big witch, Hermione. I don't need a babysitter. I can spend the night in your rooms without you."

Hermione gave her an appreciative smile.

"Thank you, Volaria," she said, hurrying into her bedroom to slip her robes over her nightgown and grabbing her wand. She exited her bedroom and paused, looking at Volaria.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" she asked the witch once more.

Volaria gave her a little exasperated scowl.

"I'll be fine, I promise," she said, then yawned.

"All right. I may be back," Hermione said, walking to the door, exiting and putting up a ward sealing Volaria in.

"I doubt that," Volaria said to herself, yawning once more and rolling over.

She was quite bright for thirteen.

* * *

Hermione walked quickly down to the Potions office, unwarded the door, entered then replaced the ward. Severus had added her signature so she would have no problems entering his domain. Other than Hermione, only Albus could gain entrance, since he was Headmaster. And Filch if there was an emergency that threatened the well-being of the castle itself. Wards would drop for the caretaker automatically in that case, no matter how powerful. It was part of Hogwarts' magic. 

Hermione opened the private entrance and entered Severus' rooms quietly, the wall sliding back down. The study was completely dark. The wizard had not even lit the fire when he returned. Maybe he was overtired and went straight to bed. It wasn't like him, but still that's what could have happened.

Hermione tiptoed through the darkness toward the wizard's bedroom, relying on her knowledge of the study's layout to keep from bumping into anything. She didn't want to light her wand. If the wizard was indeed asleep, she would let him rest. So far it looked as if he was. A dim glow came from his bedroom, the door slightly cracked.

Hermione approached it, and slowly pushed it open. She started to enter the room when she was suddenly grabbed roughly and pinned against the wall, two powerful hands grasping her upper arms.

"Light," a silken voice said.

The torches grew brighter and Hermione found herself staring into the narrowed eyes of the Potions Master. A very naked Potions Master. Severus released her arms.

"Hermione, you should know better than to creep around my rooms," the wizard chastised her, "What if I had struck first? Why didn't you use your wand? I couldn't see who was in my study."

The Potions Master had awakened when he heard the wall go up, got out of bed and looked into the study. When he saw no light he ducked back to catch whoever was in his rooms. It could have been anyone, possibly seeking to filch one of his beloved books, thinking he was still away.

"I…I didn't want to disturb you if you were sleeping," the witch said, her eyes glistening. It was so good to see him, even if he were angry.

Severus smirked at her.

"If you didn't want to disturb me, witch, you would have waited until morning to come and see me," he said to the witch, releasing her arms and staring down at her.

Hermione couldn't say anything to this statement, so addressed something else.

"I just wanted to see if you were all right," she murmured.

"Oh. So you were doing a bed check," the wizard said.

"Yes," Hermione replied, "A bed check. To see if you were in one piece."

Severus eyed her.

"There is only one problem with that," he said, suddenly sweeping Hermione into his arms and striding with her over to his four-poster. He tossed her in and climbed in behind her.

"In order to check a bed, Hermione, you need to be close," he purred.

* * *

A rather disheveled Hermione returned to her rooms shortly before 6 am. Volaria was sound asleep as the witch walked past her with a rather gap-legged gait. Damn, she was tired and sore. Severus didn't have any purple potion in his medicinal stores or his potions stores. He had to brew more. Unfortunately, Hermione didn't find this out until after the fact and had to deal with the aftermath of her "bed check" on her own. Luckily, she did have a bottle or two in her own bathroom. She wasted no time opening her cabinet, grabbing both bottles and drinking them down one after the other. Her inner aches eased and she let out a sigh of relief. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was all tangled and she had shadows under her eyes. 

She couldn't blame Severus for that however. She was already in that condition when she came to his rooms, but the wizard was so glad to see her he didn't care about that. He just wanted her. She was the most beautiful woman in the world at that moment, wild hair, shadows and everything. He did comment that she needed to eat a bit more after their first round. He could feel her ribs as he gripped and twisted her about. Severus liked Hermione a bit rounded. She wasn't fat…just thick. Healthy, not frail. She always lost weight when she worked on something important to her, and without Severus shoving food at her for the past week, she really hadn't been eating well or regularly.

Well, he was back now and no doubt would make sure she took care of herself.

Hermione stripped down and got into the shower. Severus tried to convince her to shower with him, but she had enough. The man was insatiable. She was lucky to escape walking as well as she did. But Hermione was certain of one thing as she soaped her body…the Potions Master had missed her terribly.

And he had.

* * *

After breakfast, Severus reported to Albus and told him all the details about the competition, skimming over the revels. They both knew what went on there, but Albus was glad to know there weren't many victims this go 'round. 

"Soon it will all be over, Severus," the Headmaster said, "Now has there been any word on Bellatrix or Voltaire?"

Severus shook his head.

"No Headmaster, but knowing Bellatrix, she is aware the competition has started. I believe she plans to wait until the challengers are mostly defeated, then will appear before the winner is chosen, attempt to dispatch them and place Voltaire on the throne. It is the most expedient way to accomplish the matter, and a way to be sure those who covet the throne enough to fight for it are dead," the wizard said.

Albus nodded.

"So the Order must be ready to move on the day of the final competition between the two strongest Death Eaters," the old wizard said.

"Yes sir…but only if Bellatrix and Voltaire present themselves. Otherwise we will have to wait," Severus replied, "The competition will be settled in approximately three weeks. Friday will eliminate half of the opponents, next Friday the remaining Death Eaters will face off until only two remain standing, then the following Friday those two will face off to see who is the strongest. The winner will take the elixir and the loser will be kept as back up in case the first dies. Hopefully we will have them before that occurs," Severus said.

Albus nodded.

"I think then it is time to make you a port key destination, Severus, since the time is growing close and we do not know when Bella will appear. All members of the Order will be put on notice and required to appear when they are needed. We have been training for this for several weeks and Kingsley believes they are ready. Hopefully the element of surprise will be on our side," Albus said.

The Order had an ingenious weapon created by Fred and George Weasley. Apparently the twins were wizards at creating gadgets good for things other than jokes. They created an item called a "Track-a-Port" specifically for the Order. Even the Ministry didn't have it. The Track-a-port cast a spell on a living individual rather than an object, then could be used like a port key to transport the user to the individual, circumventing any wards. Once Severus was designated a "destination" several track-a-ports could be keyed to him. This way, Order members could appear instantly when contacted.

The method of contact would be very simple. Hermione had come up with it as a student. It appeared to be a coin but could be used to summon others. In this case, it was modified. When Hermione created it, it was used to summon members of an illegal Defense Against the Dark Arts club, providing the date and time to meet. The Order's version was much simpler. It would warm in the pocket when invoked, then the members would know to use the track-a-ports within ten seconds of invocation. It took quite a bit of practice to pull this off. The Order members were a lot like America's "Minute Men" of history. All Severus needed to do was let them know by the coin when Bellatrix and Voltaire appeared and the attack would begin.

"I will focus on Bellatrix when the time comes, Headmaster," Severus said meaningfully.

Albus' eyes darkened. He would have to try to restrain and capture Voltaire, hopefully without killing the boy.

"And I will do my best to take Voltaire without too much injury," the Headmaster said.

Snape was doubtful that could be done. No doubt the boy was full of himself, just like his father and would rather die than be overcome. But he didn't say anything to discourage the Headmaster. Albus hated taking lives for any reason, though he had been forced to do just that over the years. But each time there had been no other way. He had even offered Grindelwald mercy, but the dark wizard would not give in. So Albus destroyed him, yet there was no victory in his eyes. Neither was there celebration on the part of the wizard when he heard that Voldemort was dead, though he made no attempt to stifle anyone else's joy. Life was just precious to the old wizard, and any life cut short was a life mourned.

Albus was such a Gryffindor.

The old wizard looked at Severus sadly.

"On another note, Severus, Draco has lost someone quite dear to him in your absence. A young woman named Malina Pascal. She died tragically in a magic carpet accident. The witch was very close to him and he is in mourning," the Headmaster said.

Severus didn't say anything, but felt for Draco. Malina must have been the witch he was secretly seeing. He said she was angry about his disappearances and he often had to go looking for her when he returned because she would hide. The Potions Master was of the opinion that this was the couple's foreplay, the way Draco's eyes glittered when he said he had to hunt for her then seduce her back to his manor, if not outright carry her off. He seemed happy he had her however. The Potions Master understood how he felt. It was good to have a loving witch to come home to after their missions.

Severus couldn't imagine how he would feel if anything ever happened to Hermione. It would seem as if the sun went out. He'd be thrown into darkness, a deeper darkness than he had ever experienced before…because now he knew what it was to love. Without it, his despair would most likely take him over.

He sat there in silence for several more moments, then asked, "Where is Draco now?"

"Most likely at his manor," Albus replied, "He buried her on the grounds. I have no doubt he is spending every possible moment at her graveside."

"I see," Severus said shortly.

He wondered if Draco would be in any condition to attend the competition tomorrow night. The Potions Master was counting on him being there in case anything happened. Severus rose.

"I believe I will go to the Manor and pay my respects, Headmaster," the wizard said.

Albus nodded.

"Yes, I think Draco needs company…a sympathetic ear. He has become a bit of a loner these past few years, and because of his status, he can't openly talk about his feelings for a witch who was a muggle-born," Albus said, "But you…you can understand Severus."

The Potions Master nodded soberly. Yes, he did understand.

He bid the Headmaster goodbye and used the floo to return to his rooms. He walked over to his liquor cabinet, selected an unopened bottle of Ogden's, then with his wand wrapped it in parchment with a green and silver bow.

He then apparated to Malfoy Manor to pay a visit to Draco.

* * *

Severus arrived at the manor with a crack of thunder, walked up the stairs and knocked on the heavy doors. He waited. 

"Excuse me, sir," a voice squeaked behind him.

Severus turned to see a house elf bobbing before the stairs.

The Master is in the rose garden. Follows me, please," the elf said.

Severus walked back down the stairs and followed the elf around the manor. He saw Draco sitting on a bench, looking down at a fresh grave. A few early roses surrounded the area. He strode over. Draco looked up at him with reddened eyes.

"Hello Professor," he said shortly.

"Hello Draco," Severus replied, looking at the headstone and reading the words. The Love of My Life. He looked back at Draco who had returned to staring at the mound of earth.

"I heard what happened, Draco. You have my sympathy," the Potions Master said.

Draco didn't answer him. How could the Professor have sympathy? He didn't know what it was like to have someone like Malina then to lose her.

"May I join you?" Severus asked him.

Draco slid over and Severus sat down next to him.

After a minute or two of silence, Severus spoke.

"I understand she was a muggle-born," the Potions Master said.

Draco looked at him with a scowl.

"Yes. Yes, she was a muggle-born," the blonde wizard replied as if daring the Potions Master to say anything untoward about that.

"Amazing women, muggle-borns," the Professor said.

Draco blinked at the Potions Master.

"And how would you know, Professor?" the wizard asked him, frowning.

Severus looked Draco in his eyes.

"Because, Draco…I am involved with a muggle-born witch myself," he said, "And I too have to keep it a secret for the time being."

Draco looked at Severus in amazement.

"But…but…I thought," the young wizard said, his gray eyes flicking down to the Potions Master's loins for a moment.

Severus smirked.

"I'm afraid rumors of my impotency have been greatly exaggerated," he said quietly.

Draco smiled slightly at this. He assumed like the rest of the Death Eaters that Severus really was impotent. Then he sobered.

"Who is the witch you are involved with Professor?" Draco asked him, curious now. For the first time since Malina's death he was interested in something other than his loss.

Severus looked at him for a moment, then sighed.

"Hermione Granger," he said shortly.

Draco sat up straight…his eyes wide. He couldn't have heard what he thought he did.

"Hermione who?" the blonde wizard asked.

"Granger. Hermione Granger," Severus replied, his nostrils flared a little at having to repeat himself.

Draco stared at him.

"Granger? How in the world did you get involved with her? You hated her. She was such a show-off know it all!" Draco said incredulously.

Severus looked at him.

"If you really want to know, Draco…we can go inside, open this bottle of firewhiskey and exchange stories about acquiring our witches," the Potions Master said, "Providing that what we say stays between us. I'd like to know how you met Miss Pascal as well."

Draco looked at Severus, then at Malina's grave, then at Severus again. He'd like to talk about Malina. And Granger? Oh, he'd LOVE to hear how this came about. He stood up.

"All right, Professor, but you tell your story first," he said to the wizard.

Severus rose. He had never talked about Hermione to anyone. He might need this as much as Draco did.

"Done," he said.

Together Draco and Severus headed for the Manor, the flowers on Malina's grave bowing lightly in the breeze as if seeing them off.

Perhaps they were.

Severus imbibed two large firewhiskeys before he began to speak, Draco staring at him, his gray eyes full of interest. Professor Snape was involved with Hermione Granger, the most irritating muggle-born on the face of the planet as far as Draco was concerned. How could this have possibly happened? Snape was the most Slytherin-like Slytherin he had ever known outside of his father. Actually, more so than his father. Lucius would play up to people so they never really knew his ways, but Snape had always acted the snarky bastard, straightforward, sarcastic, vindictive, not caring who liked or disliked him. How had he attached himself to Hermione Granger?

"I don't know how it happened, Draco," the Potions Master began, his eyes taking on an unfocused quality, "I've always prided myself on knowing my own motivations. Yet, my desire for Hermione crept up on me and consumed me like a ravenous dragon."

Draco said nothing. He had wanted Malina from the moment he saw her, though his ultimate goal was to bed the witch, not to love her. That had crept up on him as well. But it seemed strange that the Potions Master could be caught unaware the way he did. He was never a man given to wild passion. He seemed to consider and plan every action.

"Two years after she graduated and went on to university, I found out to my displeasure that Albus had made arrangements for her to be my Potions assistant in order to garner credit for her degree. Since I am an employee of Hogwarts and subject to Albus' outrageous whims, I had to accept her. I didn't make it easy. Her initial assignments were terrible. I assigned her to collect the bloodiest, most unsavory ingredients from living creatures, sure she would refuse. To my surprise, she did all I asked stoically, without complaint as she dissected the animals, which could not be spelled because it was important their parts be collected while alive. I also gave her insignificant grunt work, such as cleaning cauldrons, cataloging the many ingredients I had, though I already had them meticulously listed and inventoried. I even had her collect thestral manure. Not one complaint…not one word of refusal. She was dedicated, and I came to respect her dedication," the wizard admitted, pouring himself another firewhiskey.

"She was like no other witch I'd ever known," the wizard said, "Maybe she was just determined not to let me get to her…that Gryffindor stubbornness coming to the fore. Eventually I let her work with me, gave her more brewing assignments. She was careful, meticulous. If she wasn't sure about something, she would ask me despite knowing I would be dismissive and, I admit cruel…acting as if she were an idiot for doing the proper thing. Still she didn't cut and run…she took my worst and continued. How could I not respect her for that, Draco?"

Draco shook his head.

"I don't know, Professor," he said, his eyes urging the wizard to continue.

Severus took another sip of his drink, then continued.

"Hermione was the first person, male or female besides Albus that could deal with me, accept me the way I was. It took a while for that to settle in. But I still didn't know how deeply that affected me, Draco. How much…how much I appreciated her understanding…her acceptance," the pale wizard said, shaking his head, "It is easy to see in retrospect, but at the time of its occurrence, I had no idea the witch was working her way under my skin."

Draco finished his own drink, then poured another. He also topped off the Professor's drink, wanting him to continue opening up. He had never seen this side of the wizard and felt rather honored that he was sharing something so personal with him.

"But…but it was when she accidentally added a wrong ingredient to her cauldron after I had been particularly sharp with her, that how I felt towards the witch came to a head. The only reason she didn't ask me what to do was because how cruelly I spoke to her after she asked an earlier question. It is clear now she decided to chance she was right…which she wasn't. But luckily I saw her error and pulled her away from the cauldron before it blew. I have no doubt it would have killed her," Severus said, his eyes hard.

Draco watched as the Professor's expression changed. It became rather soft, vulnerable. Something he wasn't used to seeing. Severus took a long sip of his firewhiskey, his black eyes meeting Draco.

"I had her in my embrace, close…tight. I could feel her trembling as I railed at her about being so stupid, so irresponsible, telling her she could have lost her life. And suddenly the thought of the witch losing her life…no longer being here hit me…and…and…" the wizard's voice faltered.

"And?" Draco encouraged.

Severus looked at him, his eyes darker than usual.

"And I kissed her. I lowered my head and locked my lips to her mouth and it was as if an inferno washed over me. It was shocking, but compelling and she didn't resist me. She kissed me back, but as I think of it…her kiss was not practiced, but I was the aggressor, so I took control, pulling her closer, drowning in the feel and scent of her. The next thing I knew, my robes were spread on the lab floor and the witch beneath me. I took her, Draco, full of a lust I had never known before. I've been aroused before and had my share of willing witches…but this…but this was something different, something I could not stop. I had to have her. Can you understand that?" the wizard asked him.

Draco remembered returning from a month of revels and taking Malina for the first time. He was driven. He needed her more than he needed to take his next breath, and she gave herself to him, feeling his need.

"Yes. Yes I can," Draco said softly.

Severus sighed and held out his glass to Draco, who refilled it. The Potions Master took another sip, rasping slightly, then continuing, seeming to speak to himself rather than Draco.

"I…I…I didn't know," he said softly, "Or I didn't want to know…"

"What, Professor…what didn't you know?" Draco asked him.

"I took her passionately Draco. I was…I was full of desire. She cried out when I entered her…I was used to that, many witches responded the same way if I were driven. But there was a sharpness to her cry that I didn't register at first and…and she didn't try to push me away or protest. She took me, crying out and gasping and I thought it was normal…considering the differences in our size and my strength. But there was something in her eyes that made me slow…made me….look. It was then I saw the blood and realized I had taken her virginity," the wizard said with a quaver in his voice as he remembered his horror at having treated Hermione in such a way.

Draco stared at him a moment, then said, "Gods, Professor. You didn't know she was a virgin?"

"No. No I didn't," he said, "I had taken something precious from her in a fit of lust. Yes, she could have said something…but it had to all be so overwhelming for the witch. There was no doubt in my mind that she had wanted me. It was not an act of rape, but an act of passion…one she accepted. I slowed then, and gave her the attention and gentleness she deserved. I believe I made it good for the witch once I realized my error," Severus said.

"What happened afterwards?" Draco asked him.

Severus drew in a deep breath.

"It was awkward. I apologized to her for taking her in such a manner and scourgified her, feeling completely out of sorts as she rearranged her clothing. Then she said to me, 'I was going to lose my virginity one day, Professor. I'm just glad it was spontaneous and with someone I truly respect and admire,' then she left. In the days that followed she acted as if nothing had happened between us, and I did my best to act the same way…unfortunately treating her even more atrociously than before, as if to prove I was unaffected. But I was affected. I had never taken a witch's virginity before and as I said, I had never known a witch like Hermione. For more than a week I denied my desire for the witch, telling myself it was a tryst like any other tryst. But it wasn't, Draco. I don't believe Hermione would have let anyone do to her what I did to her in the way I did it. She felt something for me. She wasn't an air headed bit of fluff that flipped her heels into the air for every randy wizard that had a compliment for her, but an intelligent, dedicated young witch who was going to make her mark in the world. And she gave me my space. I found…I found I didn't want it."

Draco could understand this…but said nothing as the wizard poured out his soul to him. It was good therapy. He wasn't the only one affected by intimacy with a special witch. It soothed him as he listened to the Potions Master.

"After a rather conflicted week of thinking constantly about Hermione, I finally confessed to her that I wanted her, but I didn't know if I could be what she wanted. She looked at me and said, 'I believe I can be what you want, Professor. You just don't know it yet. We can find out together.' Then she proceeded to give me a list of 'rules.' The cheeky little wench. But I was willing to try to follow them in order to have her for a lover. I am still trying to meet them…although I've never regretted taking the risk. She is still as infuriating as she was in Hogwarts, but there is much more to her that I can appreciate now. She also has a terrible temper that she has no problem showing. I appreciate that, since I never wanted to be involved with a witch who was little more than a doormat. She may be a Gryffindor, but she has strength, fire and is as vindictive as she is brilliant. She takes no guff, Draco…and that…that endears her to me."

The wizard fell silent.

Draco nodded.

"Malina didn't take much guff either, Professor. She hexed me on more than one occasion for trying to take advantage of her. She could be a hellcat when she wanted. And I loved it," the wizard said.

Severus took another drink and looked at Draco speculatively.

"I think we are quite alike in our tastes, Draco. Both of us were quite lucky in finding women that suited us," he said, his voice slightly slurred.

"Yes. Yes, Professor," Draco responded, also feeling the effects of the firewhiskey, "Now let me tell you about Malina."

The two wizards talked far into the evening, sharing memories, laughs and some regrets concerning their witches.

"At least you told Malina you loved her," Severus said thickly, "I haven't told Hermione that directly yet, though I am sure she knows."

"They always know," Draco said drunkenly, "Malina had me by the short hairs the first time I saw her. She was beautiful…beautiful."

Draco fell silent.

Severus looked at him.

"And you will always be blessed, Draco, having known that beauty…having experienced her love. That love will be with you always," the wizard said.

Severus would never have voiced such a sentiment if he wasn't drunk. But it didn't mean he didn't believe it, because he did. He felt himself a better man because of Hermione's love. No doubt Draco had benefited from Malina the same way.

Draco thought about the song she left, a comforting warmth washing over him. It could be the firewhiskey, but he believed it something more. In fact, he knew it was something more.

"Yes. Yes it will," he agreed.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. I had a couple of homemade wine coolers. I hope this talk between the wizards translates as well as I think it does. Lol. Thanks for reading. 


	11. Part 11

**A Song for Severus Part 11**

Hermione didn't get much work done in her labs because she put off experimenting with the Dark pixies waiting for Severus to visit her, so he could see how far along she'd gotten with the project. But the wizard never came.

Hermione actually went to lunch and supper in the hopes of seeing him, but he didn't attend either meal. Albus was present at both so Severus wasn't with him. Where was he? Hermione felt a little miffed that after last night he didn't come see her at all. She felt a bit, well…used. She had never felt used by the Potions Master before…and it was rather unsettling. She left her labs early and Volaria could see she was in a bad mood.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" the young witch asked, looking up from the second year book of Charms she was reading.

"Nothing," Hermione said, plopping down in an armchair and looking into the fire.

She sat there for about an hour. It was all she could stand. She hadn't gone to Severus' rooms because she felt if he were there, she'd be furious. He couldn't have been asleep all day because he was up and raring to go when she left that morning, barely escaping his still randy grasp. Was he angry she left? He didn't seem to be. He was smirking at her lasciviously when she said she'd had enough and was leaving right this minute. Severus loved to make her run from him, so long as he got his fill first.

So why hadn't he shown up?

She was going to damn well find out.

* * *

Severus apparated outside the gate of Hogwarts, weaving slightly. Draco didn't have any sober-up potion at the Manor and the Potions Master thought he could use the walk across the grounds to clear his head somewhat. But he was pretty lit. He did have enough presence of mind though to decide to use the private entrance to the dungeon corridor below his office rather than walk through the Main Hall. It was after eight, and most of his Slytherins would be in their house at this time, but it still wouldn't do for them to see their Head of House shitfaced. 

He unwarded the gates, walked through and got about thirty yards away before he realized he didn't ward the gates back and had to return. After correcting his little error, he headed across the grounds.

Severus and Draco had a real heart to heart, and one thing that struck the wizard was that he had an idea of what happened with him that day in the lab, but he never asked Hermione how she had felt about it. They became lovers, yes…but their initial sex act was never mentioned between them again.

As the wizard told Draco, his passion for the witch just seemed to explode over him…but what was it like for Hermione? Why did she accept him? Something had to have been going on with the witch as well. Now, after all this time, Severus was curious to know what it was that made her want him. He was a bastard to her the entire time she worked with him.

"It makes no sense," he muttered to himself as he half-weaved, half-walked toward the castle, "None at all."

When he arrived at the vine-covered stone door, he pushed the vines aside a couple of times before he could get them all out of the way, pointed his wand at it and said, "Loahramora!"

Of course nothing happened.

Severus blinked at the door again.

"Moharalora," he said, hiccupping a bit.

Still the door didn't open. The Potions Master scowled at the uncooperative entryway.

"Fuck it. Reducto!" he breathed, blasting the locking mechanism off, pushing the door open, entering and shoving it closed behind him. He panted a bit…that door was heavy. Ah well. Filch could fix it later. No doubt the castle already summoned him.

The Professor walked up to the top of the niche and peered out, looking both ways to make sure no one was in the corridor. If he had been in a better state of mind, he would have disillusioned himself, but…all he was thinking about was getting to his rooms and his sober-up potion. He and Draco had finished the entire bottle of firewhiskey and he had left the blonde wizard asleep in the armchair, his head leaning back and his mouth wide open as he slept it off.

Seeing no one, he walked into the corridor and headed for his office. He stopped in front of the door and tried to open it by turning the knob. Of course it was warded.

"Blasted ward," he growled, pulling out his wand and concentrating.

He didn't see Hermione come out of her rooms, but she saw him and stopped, scowling with her hands on her hips.

She watched as Severus attempted to unward his office unsuccessfully, her eyes widening. What was wrong with him? He never had a problem getting into his office before. She began to walk toward him and when she was about ten feet away, she smelled the firewhiskey. The Potions Master smelled as if he had bathed in it.

"Severus! You're…you're drunk!" she said to the wizard, who turned toward her and gave her a rather smart salute, despite his condition.

"A brilliant deduction," he said to her, then frowned, "Did you change my ward on my office?"

"No. Why would I do that?" she snapped at him, walking up, pulling her wand and unwarding the door easily.

"I need to get my wand checked then," he muttered, opening the door and walking in.

"It's not your wand that needs checking," Hermione said, following him. She had never seen Severus drunk before and watched as he unsteadily managed to get his wall open. Severus stopped as what she said registered, and he looked at her with a leer.

"Maybe my wand does need checking," he growled at her, his black, rather blood-shot eyes sweeping over her.

"Severus, you can hardly walk much less shag. Go into your rooms," she said, pushing at him. Severus allowed her to force him through the door and into the study. He waited for the wall to close then made a grab for her.

Hermione danced out of the way.

"Why are you drunk?" she demanded, "And where have you been all day? I waited for you to come to my lab and see my progress."

"I…I went to comfort a friend," Severus said thickly, "Draco Malfoy lost the woman he was involved with in an accident. Her name was Malina Pascal. They were secret lovers, much as we are and she was muggle-born…like you. I thought I could bring him some comfort."

Hermione stared at him as she processed the name. She recognized it. Malina Pascal was the singer she had heard at the party at Grimauld Place the night Severus returned. She had sung that beautiful song. She read about her death in the Daily Prophet. She had no idea Draco was involved with her. He must have cared for her deeply to overlook the fact she was a muggle-born. She would have never believed the wizard capable of that kind of love. Apparently, she was mistaken.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said softly, "Poor Draco."

Severus nodded.

"Yes. He is quite broken-hearted…but I think with time he will be all right," Severus said, sitting down in the armchair rather than going directly to his bathroom and retrieving the sober-up potion, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving, but once Albus told me his situation I went there directly after picking up a bottle of firewhiskey, intending to drown his sorrows."

Hermione sat down in the armchair next to him.

"From here it looks as if you both went under," she said with a little smile.

"Actually, our time together was quite, therapeutic. For the first time I was able to talk about you with another wizard," he said thickly, his black eyes resting on her.

Hermione sat up straight.

"You told Draco about us?" she asked him incredulously.

Severus nodded.

"Yes. It was the only way I could get through to him, letting him know I was also in a secret relationship with a muggle-born witch. It made our discussion more meaningful. We could understand each other's…feelings," the wizard said with an effort.

Talking about feelings wasn't Severus' forte, though he could do it quite eloquently when he had to.

"What…what did you talk about?" Hermione asked, "How did he react?"

"He was shocked of course. He wanted to know how we became involved. You were such a 'show-off know-it-all," Severus said with a smirk as Hermione reddened, "In turn he told me how he and Malina became lovers. You two shared quite a few traits."

"How much did you tell him?" Hermione asked, her face burning as she imagined the kind of detail two men would go into concerning the women they were sleeping with. Gods, she hoped Severus hadn't told him about her masochism. That was no one's business but theirs.

"I told him about our first encounter," Severus said.

"Oh Severus…you didn't," Hermione said, her eyes glistening, "Oh gods…he must think I'm some kind of slut or something."

Severus sat up and scowled at her.

"What do you mean, 'slut?'" he snarled at her angrily, "You were a virgin, Hermione. Virgins are not sluts simply by virtue of being virgins. Plus, you've remained with me since that time. You are certainly no slut…and if anyone dare imply that you are I'll…"

Hermione stared at the wizard. He was furious she said such a thing, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Calm down, Severus," she said softly, "Breathe."

Severus looked at her and calmed as she asked, but his eyes held a question.

"Hermione, why did you let me take you in the labs? Why didn't you stop me?" he asked her.

Hermione looked at him.

"I told you. I was going to lose my virginity one day and I was glad to have it happen with someone I respected and admired," she replied.

Severus studied her.

"Hermione…most untouched women have dreams of falling in love, finding the right wizard who comes and sweeps them off their feet, then carries them off to the world of 'Happily Ever After,'" he said, feeling himself sobering somewhat. Just a bit, however.

Hermione gave him a smile.

"I'm too logical for that Professor. I knew my first time would more than likely be an act of passion, or physical attraction, rather than love. I wasn't ready to fall in love. I was still in school and had things I wanted to do before my heart became a wizard's prisoner. I wasn't looking for love, and I really don't believe in Prince Charming either," she said softly, "I was attracted to you. I had a crush on you from early in my seventh year."

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"Even then you were a masochist if that is the case. I treated you horribly," he said quietly.

"You didn't treat me any worse than you treated anyone else, Severus. What fascinated me about you is despite how cold you were, you risked your life for all of us…constantly. How could you really hate us if you were willing to die for us?" she said softly, "I've always thought you were the bravest, most selfless wizard I know. You are a true hero, Severus Snape. And you still serve the Greater Good at the risk of your own life."

Severus fell silent. This is what she thought of him all these years?

"In the lab, when you were yelling at me about exploding the cauldron, I wasn't thinking about your words, but how you were holding me. You could have let me go…but you didn't. The way you held me was protective and…and…I could see fear in your eyes more than anger. You were afraid for me. Afraid something could have happened to me. I could tell…I could tell you cared, Severus. And you were someone who never acted as if you cared for anything or anyone. Yes, I could have stopped you when you kissed me…but the truth was…I didn't want to stop you. I wanted to feel you want me. Even if it was just for that moment," Hermione said, her breathing quickening.

"I wasn't afraid. Your kiss, the way you touched me, pulled me against you…I could feel your need and my own need. I remember thinking, 'yes…let it be him,' I knew it was right because I didn't want you to stop touching me…the more intimate your caresses became, the more I wanted them. I felt as if I had been immersed in fire. I had no words to stop you Severus, because I didn't want you to stop. Even when you broke my maidenhead so roughly, it hurt…but it felt right, your eyes blazing down at me, hunger etched in your face…it was all for me. I was the person Severus Snape wanted most in the world at that moment, and I was probably one of the few that knew you intimately that way," she said softly, "I don't think that you did what you did to me often. I could tell you were swept away and so I was swept away as well."

Severus felt himself getting an immense erection as Hermione described what she felt that first time in the lab, how she connected with him…wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Truthfully, he needed to hear this from the witch. He wasn't absolutely sure he hadn't forced himself on her and she just accepted it. Hearing that she wanted him that day finally took that unease away.

"Then, I knew you cared when you realized I was a virgin…you changed, became gentle, kind…tender. If you had stopped, I would have asked you to continue, Severus. It was a rocky start, but my first sexual experience was good. You were good."

Severus blinked at her, still silent…still listening. The way Hermione sounded it seemed as if this were something she needed to get out as well.

"But I wasn't naïve enough to think that one tryst meant anything had changed with you. I knew there would be no roses, or chocolates or anything like that. Most likely you would go back to being alone…it was a moment that was needed, a moment that was shared…but I knew you weren't the kind of man to share himself for long. I was fine with that, and determined not to put any pressure on you. I had experienced you, a man I had admired and respected for years and I was satisfied with that. I had never seen you in a relationship. I didn't think you would change simply because you shagged me," Hermione said, her voice dropping.

"Then I began to notice you seemed angrier than ever. You became almost like a demon…I didn't want to ask you anything when we worked together. Every word was like a knife, and it got worse and worse. I was starting to think I wouldn't be able to complete my studies with you…and then…and then…you surprised me. You told me you couldn't get me out of your head and that you wanted me. What touched me the most about it was, you were so unsure that it would work out…you didn't think you had it in you to be what a witch needed for the long term. But I knew you did. Any man who worked as hard as you to bring peace and freedom to the wizarding world had the dedication necessary to maintain a relationship. You only needed to let yourself be happy. I was willing to try to build something with you…provided there were rules of course…the first being your treatment of me. No more insults and name-calling, wild raging and so forth…" she said with a smirk.

"Ah yes. The infamous rules of engagement you hit me with," the wizard said, smirking himself, "The moment you knew you had me, you hoisted the hoops."

"And you were willing to try to jump through them. That's another way I knew something was possible between us," she said.

Severus gave her a wicked smile.

"I knew the night you told me to take you until you cried," he said, "And the gods know I did…my twisted little masochist."

Hermione turned all kinds of colors when the wizard said this.

"You would use that as a jump-off for a relationship," she snapped at him.

Severus grinned at her at first, then sobered.

"I'm a male, Hermione. Men give love for sex, unlike women who for the most part give sex for love. Your willingness to let me let loose on you affected me deeply. It was more than sex or submission however…it was trust. You trusted me fully. How could you not when you allow me to do to you whatever I wish in any manner I wish?" he asked her, his voice thickening with desire at the thought of it.

"Not all the time," she said, looking at the pale wizard through half-lidded eyes. She was beginning to feel some heat as well. She hadn't intended for this to happen. She came here to take him to task for ignoring her all day…and now…

Severus leaned forward.

"Maybe this time?" he asked her, his eyes glittering.

Hermione could see the tent in his robes. But gods…two nights in a row with him? The wizard had been quite ardent last night, and by the way he was looking at her she could tell that a few bottles of purple potion could be in order. Ah, that's right…he was out of purple potion. Whew!

"Severus, you don't have any purple potion," she said to the wizard, who scowled.

Shit.

"I'll be gentle," he lied.

Hermione snorted in derision. Severus gentle? That was like a basilisk saying it would only take a peek. Oh he might start out that way, and there were nights he really was a tender lover, but the look in his eyes said 'bang her 'till she breaks.' Hermione, even though she was aroused wasn't up to it, particularly since she wouldn't have any potion to give her relief.

"I don't think so, Severus. I just wanted to know what happened to you today," she said rising. Severus rose too.

"A kiss then," he said, fully intending to seduce the witch. All he needed to do was get his mouth and hands on her.

"All right," she said, Severus smirking at her, "But when I leave."

Damn it!

It was clear to see the wizard wouldn't be riding Hermione to bliss tonight. He sighed…then yawned.

Hermione smiled at him.

"Besides, you're too tired," she said to him.

"I'm never too tired for you, witch," he retorted, shaking his head a bit. His eyelids were drooping.

Hermione walked to the wall and pulled on the torch. It opened and she walked through, Severus following. She opened the potions office door a crack, then pursed her lips. Severus moved in, intending on giving her the full Snape, but she drew back the moment his lips touched hers, turning what should have been a searing, tonsil-sucking kiss into a peck.

"Good night, Severus," she said softly, smiling at his scowl.

"Goodnight, minx," he said bad-temperedly.

Hermione chuckled and exited his office, Severus frowning after her, sticking his head out the door and watching as she unwarded her door and entered her rooms safely. He replaced the ward on his own door, considerably less drunk probably due to the loss of inebriated blood to his brain because of his erection.

The Potions Master returned to his study, then headed for his bedroom. He walked into the bathroom and finally retrieved the sober-up potion. The wizard drank it down, his head clearing. He quickly divestoed his clothing, took a long piss, then retired.

He lay there with his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, thinking about what the witch told him. Now he knew how Hermione felt about him their first time.

And that was almost better than sex.

* * *

Severus awoke early the next morning, feeling refreshed but stinking of firewhiskey and his mouth tasting as if he'd eaten dragon dung. 

"Good gods…my room smells like a pub at closing time," he grumbled, rising and pulling all of his bedding off the bed so the house elves would know to wash it. He pulled the pillow cases off as well, then headed to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and tongue thoroughly, using a lot of tooth powder. It took a while to get the nasty taste out of his mouth. Then he showered thoroughly, washing his hair as well. He dried off and exited the bathroom, dressing with his usual severity. He looked at the clock. It was a quarter to seven.

He exited his rooms and went to his potions lab, immediately setting to chopping up the ingredients for a few gallons of purple potion. He didn't intend to run out of it anytime soon. He made the base, then set the potion on a low simmer. It only took a few hours to brew. He'd have plenty by this evening.

His mind turned to the competition. He hadn't told Hermione he had to go yet. He'd wait until after she showed him her progress with the anti-elixir. No need upsetting her too early.

Next, he went to Hermione's room and knocked on the door. He heard the patter of feet, then a girl's voice pipe, "Who is it?"

"Professor Snape," he snapped.

Why was Volaria answering the door? The girl was supposed to be a blasted secret. Scowling he waited. She didn't open the door. He could hear her footsteps as she walked away.

After a minute or two he heard Hermione removing the wards. That's right. Volaria was warded in so she couldn't leave. At least Hermione kept that up. Hermione opened the door. She was dressed in a cotton robe, her nightgown underneath. Her hair was tousled and she looked sleepy-eyed.

She yawned.

"What are you doing here so early, Severus?" she asked as the wizard strode by her.

"I wanted to check on Miss Ruddle," he replied.

Volaria was sitting up on the side of her makeshift bed, her blonde hair tousled as well and rubbing her blue eyes. The Potions Master walked up to her and glared.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," she said politely.

"Don't good morning me, witch. Why did you answer the door? No one is supposed to know you're here," he said to her, frowning.

"Severus! You don't have to talk to her like that," Hermione snapped at him angrily.

Volaria's eyes went wide.

"I was half-asleep. I wasn't thinking," she replied, "I'm sorry."

"You weren't thinking. That much is obvious. Well, I suggest you start thinking," he said to her coldly.

"Severus, leave her alone. She's going to be starting classes next week anyway," Hermione said to him.

"What?" Severus said, spinning, "Already?"

"Yes, already," Hermione said in a snide voice. She was mad at him for bullying the young witch. Just because she was Tom Riddle's daughter didn't mean he had to treat her so badly, "Her testing came out fine and she's at the proper level in everything but her wand work."

Severus snorted. The witch didn't need a damn wand. She could do wandless magic anytime she wanted…wandless and non-verbal.

"But I'm almost there. I'm already studying second-year charms. Professor Flitwick said I will catch up quickly," she offered to the glowering Potions Master as if looking for his approval. If she was, she wasn't going to get it.

"Second year charms?" Severus said, then looked at Hermione, narrowing his eyes, "Hermione, does this witch have a wand?"

"Yes she does. Albus took her down to Ollivander's himself and got her one. She needs to know how to use a wand, Severus. It's best to hide wandless magic…you know that," Hermione said to him.

Volaria looked up at the Potions Master with wide eyes. She had the feeling he would never like her.

"I think you are all moving too fast," the wizard said, "She hasn't been here a full month yet and already you and Albus want to set her loose on Hogwarts."

"Severus, you make it sound as if she's some kind of monster," Hermione said to him.

He looked at Volaria down his nose and said, "Her father was a monster…she shares the same blood."

Hermione covered her mouth at this statement, and Volaria's eyes filled with tears. Suddenly the witch leapt off the bed and bolted for Hermione's bedroom. The door to the bathroom slammed shut and both Severus and Hermione could hear her sobbing.

"Severus Arsenius Snape…I can't believe you said something so cruel to that little girl," Hermione seethed at him, "Comparing her to her father. Doesn't she have enough to worry about?"

"I don't give a damn what she worries about," Severus said coldly, "she is the daughter of a despot and should be handled carefully until we know what she's about, Hermione."

"She's a young witch who has been mistreated all her life, Severus. Brought up by Bellatrix LeStrange, cut off from all socialization and scared for her very life because of her brother's hatred. She needs our help, Severus. Not our disdain," Hermione said to him.

When it came to matters like this, Severus was a hard man. He had seen people who were believed to be kind and upstanding individuals enact horrible crimes against others when left to their own devices via the revels. Male and female alike. Take that piece of work Elizabeth Yaxley. She looked like an angel and had everyone fooled she was a simple witch who ran a farm. But she was one of the cruelest women he had ever met. The things she would do to her victims…

The Potions Master shuddered for a moment, then looked at Hermione.

"I believe Volaria should be locked up until we retrieve her brother, Hermione. We don't know for certain if she doesn't have a family connection with him. He may hate her…but she may not hate him. He is still her brother…still her blood," the wizard said.

"Well, I don't intend to tell her that he's going to be captured and brought here, Severus. It would frighten her," Hermione said, "And I refuse to have her locked up like a prisoner. She's had enough of that in her life."

Both Severus and Hermione were so immersed in their conversation, neither realized Volaria had left the bathroom and was standing in the bedroom doorway, a look of horror on her face.

"Voltaire's coming here?" she cried.

Both Hermione and Severus spun and looked at her, surprise and dismay on their faces.

"Shit," Severus breathed as he saw the terror in her eyes.

"Hermione, tell me that you aren't bringing him here," Volaria pleaded with the witch, running over to her and clutching both her hands. The young witch was trembling from head to toe. Hermione drew her into an embrace and stared at Severus with hard eyes.

"Is this the reaction of someone who loves her brother?" she asked the wizard.

Severus didn't say anything. He knew abject fear when he saw it. Volaria was scared to death. He drew his wand and pointed it at her.

"Obli…" he started to say.

Hermione spun Volaria so she blocked the trembling girl with her body.

"Don't you dare!" she yelled at Severus, whose eyes glittered.

"It's the best thing for her," he said softly, his wand still in his hand.

"No, the best thing for her is to be honest with her, Severus. She already has one glaring secret…that she's the daughter of Voldemort. We have to trust her to be able to handle more secrets. Her life is going to probably be full of them," Hermione said, caressing Volaria's hair as the witch clutched her.

Severus and Hermione glared at each other for a moment or two, then the wizard put his wand away.

"You better hope you're right about how you handle Volaria, Hermione. Because if you are wrong, there's going to be hell to pay," he said to her, walking toward the door, "I will see you in your lab later."

The wizard exited the room. Hermione heard him ward the door, most likely with her signature added so she could open it.

"He hates me," Volaria whispered.

"No. No Volaria, he doesn't hate you. He's just a cautious man who speaks his mind," Hermione said soothingly, releasing the witch.

"Is it true, Hermione? Is Voltaire going to be brought to Hogwarts? He'd never fit in here. He's evil. He'd try to destroy this place," she said, her voice quavering.

Hermione looked at her.

"Come on, Volaria, sit down," she said softly, walking the witch to her bed. They both sat down on it.

"Now, I am going to share something very important with you, Volaria. You must promise me you will keep it to yourself. If you tell anyone, there is a good chance the secret of who your father is will come out too…and your life will be a living hell. You may have to leave England completely and even then you might not be safe. Your father has a lot of enemies left who would have no problem taking revenge on his children. Do you understand me? There are people who would willingly kill you if they knew who you were. To protect yourself, you can't let on about anything I am about to tell you," Hermione said.

Part of her revolted against being so blunt with Volaria, but Harry had to face hard facts when he was young and managed. Volaria had to be just as tough as Harry was at that age considering who raised her.

"I understand that, Hermione," Volaria said softly.

"Good," the witch said, "Now listen. Voltaire wants to be the next Dark Lord because of the way he was raised by Bella. More than likely if he had been raised by a normal family he wouldn't be the way he is. We are hoping to take him away from Bella and reverse the effects of the elixir that changed him. If we can do that, maybe we can help him become a good member of society. If we can't, then he will have to be locked away for the rest of his life."

Volaria shook her head.

"Voltaire was cruel before he took the elixir, Hermione, believe me. I think Professor Snape is right in a way. I think my brother really has my father's blood and ways. I am probably more like my mother. But Voltaire…he is evil and wants to be a king. Even if you take away the powers the elixir gave him…he will still want that. You will never be able to trust him. Ever," Volaria said sincerely.

Hermione studied the girl.

"But Volaria, everyone deserves a chance. We've given you one. Don't you think your brother deserves one too?" she asked the witch.

Volaria shook her head.

"No, I don't. I really don't. Voltaire is smart. He'll pretend to go along. I know him," she said darkly.

"Volaria, you only know your brother under Bellatrix's influence. If he is taken out of it, then maybe there's hope for him…there's always hope," Hermione said, "We have to at least give him a chance."

Volaria looked at Hermione and suddenly realized that the witch really wanted to believe there was hope for Voltaire, when there wasn't. Volaria was the only one at Hogwarts who ever dealt with him with the exception of Professor Snape that one time, and she was sure that he would feel the same way concerning Voltaire. Volaria had lived with him all her life, and Hermione should at least consider what she was telling her was the truth…that there was no hope. She refused to.

Volaria knew at that moment, no matter how much she warned Hermione, she wouldn't give up on believing her brother could be changed. And Voltaire would fool her. He'd fool everyone. Except her and maybe Professor Snape.

Volaria looked at Hermione.

"All right, I guess everyone deserves a chance," the young witch said slowly.

Hermione smiled broadly. She had finally got through to the girl.

"That's right, and we're going to help your brother the same way we're helping you. It will all be fine. You'll see, Volaria. Now I'm going to go get dressed and we'll have breakfast together. Do you have any plans on what you'll be studying today?" Hermione asked her, standing up.

"Yes. Charms," Volaria replied.

"All right. I'm going to go shower," Hermione said, giving the witch one more smile and walking into her bedroom.

Volaria got up and walked over to Hermione's bookshelf. She passed over the second year Charms book, her blue eyes studying the titles. Then she found what she was looking for.

The Big Book of Advanced Charms.

She noted its location then returned to her bed and sat down, looking thoughtful.

Studying charms was going to be much more important now.

* * *

"Eloise Hedgeberry?" Albus said to the wizard sitting in front of him. 

"Yes, Headmaster…Fenrir turned her. Now she needs protection," Remus said soberly.

Albus looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"She's not the only one. Fenrir must be furious you took her," the old wizard replied.

"I imagine he is," the werewolf replied, "But I was the smarter wolf."

"Indeed you were," Albus said, his eyes washing over him, "But I sense there is more at issue here."

"Yes, there is Headmaster. Eloise does not want to be arbitrarily sterilized. Since she is a citizen of the muggle world can they force her to do it?" Remus asked him.

Albus looked thoughtful.

"I believe they cannot Remus. She isn't a citizen of our world and has her own rights according to the laws of muggle England. I believe it is illegal to sterilize a woman against her will there, so it cannot be imposed here, though they will try to convince her to have it done," the Headmaster said. "Does she want children?"

"I think it is the idea of someone else deciding whether or not she can have them being the issue," Remus said, "I'm quite sure actually having children is the last thing on her mind right now. Besides she is in her thirties I believe. For a muggle that is late to have a child."

Albus shook his head in negation.

"No Remus, it's not. Muggle women are known to have children as late as in their late forties, when they are better established," he replied.

Remus looked a bit perplexed by this.

"But they age so quickly, Headmaster. At age sixty they have lived over half of their lifetime and start to become frail," the wizard said, thinking how hard it would be for muggle female to keep up with children, particularly young adults who got into all manner of trouble.

"That will not be the case with Miss Hedgeberry. Becoming a werewolf has added years to her life. She will live as long as any of us. Her aging will slow," the Headmaster replied, "And her childbearing years will lengthen."

Remus absorbed this. Apparently for muggles there was some benefit to becoming a werewolf. Dubious benefits, but benefits nevertheless.

"But there is another issue. A fertile werewolf bitch will cause problems in the village," Albus said. "None of the other females can breed."

Remus shook his head.

"I don't think she will want to stay in the village, sir. Currently she is with Rubin Fezwig," he replied.

"Ah Rubin. Almost a contemporary of mine. A Hufflepuff I believe…very hardworking. A shame what happened to his son," Albus said. "But he knows how to keep werewolves away. Still, Eloise will have her cycles. You know what happens when she goes off her period just before transformation Remus," Albus said, his expression grave.

Remus reddened slightly.

"She goes into heat," he said hoarsely.

"She will have to be locked up securely or she will go in search of a male, and not be particularly selective if there aren't many available. You have to explain it to her before it happens," the old wizard said.

"Me?" Remus responded, his eyes wide.

"Who else? You took her from Fenrir. You have part of the responsibility to help her adapt to her new form and life. You can't very well let it come on her when she's unaware. She won't know what's happening to her," Albus told him.

Remus looked quite out of sorts.

"I…I suppose you're right, Headmaster," Remus said.

"I am right. Now you need to take her down to the Ministry and get her registered as soon as possible. If there is any issue about her sterilization, have the Ministry contact me. I'll set them to rights," Albus said as Remus stood, leaned over the desk and shook his hand.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he said, "I appreciate this."

"It is my pleasure to help someone in such a strange and difficult situation, Remus. However, please be careful. Fenrir is a vindictive sort to say the least. He will be out for blood…possibly from the both of you if he thinks she has taken you for a mate," Albus said.

Remus snorted.

"There's no chance of that happening, Headmaster. She's an alpha female. I'm not dominant enough for her," he replied.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that Remus. She is still human as well. It could be her human preferences would override her animal instincts where you are concerned. I believe it would do you good to have a mate, Remus. Someone to care for and to care for you."

Remus looked at the wizard for a moment and opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

"Goodbye, Headmaster," he said instead.

"Goodbye, my boy," Albus said, his eyes twinkling.

Remus exited the office, Albus looking after him thoughtfully.

* * *

After breakfast, Severus returned to his lab to give his purple potions a few stirs, then returned to Hermione's rooms, letting himself in. Hermione was gone, but Volaria was there, reading with her brow furrowed. She looked up when he entered and jumped a bit guiltily. 

Severus had been dealing with naughty students for years and knew the signs of wrongdoing the moment he saw them. He strode over to the witch, who was sitting in one of the armchairs.

"What are you up to, Miss Ruddle?" he asked her sternly.

"Nothing," she said in a small voice. Her blue eyes flicked over to the book lying on the table reflexively.

Severus noticed this and picked up the book, reading the title.

"Advanced Charms, Miss Ruddle? You barely have the rudiments down pat. I think Hogwarts has the makings of another overachiever on its hands," he said with a little sneer, "You have to crawl before you can walk, Miss Ruddle. I think it best you learn the basics before you try anything else."

He closed the book, put it back on the table and turned to leave. Volaria, her heart pounding, called him.

"Professor Snape…I'd…I'd like to talk to you about something. Something very important," she said.

Severus looked at the girl.

"You have Miss Granger to listen to your problems. I don't have time to be burdened with what ails you, Miss Ruddle," he snapped at her.

"But sir…she won't listen to me. She's too…too stubborn," Volaria said desperately.

Severus' eyes glittered at her. It was true. Hermione was stubborn…but this little chit shouldn't be making that observation. It was disrespectful.

"Miss Granger has the deplorable habit of listening to any and everyone's problems, Miss Ruddle. I'm sure she can fit yours in. Now good day," he said, walking toward the door.

"I want you to teach me a spell," Volaria cried out.

Severus froze, then slowly turned.

"I am not the Charms Professor, Miss Ruddle. Professor Flitwick can teach you what you need to know," he replied.

"Not this charm, Professor. It's not taught at Hogwarts, and the books don't explain well enough. I can't figure it out on my own," she said.

Severus studied the witch. She was a Ravenclaw. She couldn't be that stupid could she?

"If it isn't taught at Hogwarts, Miss Ruddle, there's a reason. Students…aren't…supposed…to learn it, " he said in a low "are you a complete idiot?" voice.

"But I need to learn it sir. And you are the only one who would understand why. Hermione won't," she said.

Severus stared at her, curious now.

"And why do you think I would understand when Miss Granger wouldn't?" he asked her.

Volaria swallowed.

"Because you know what danger is," she said, "What it really is. What can happen. Please…just let me tell you why I want to learn the spell," Volaria pleaded with him, "And if you don't think I'm right, then I won't ask you again. Please Professor."

"You have thirty seconds," he said, folding his arms.

Volaria didn't waste them. When she was finished, he studied her for a minute or two, saying nothing. Volaria stared back at him, her eyes desperate and hopeful.

"I think, Miss Ruddle, I may have underestimated you, as well as the Sorting Hat. You would have done well in Slytherin," he said, giving her a small smirk.

Volaria didn't dare smile. She continued to stare at the wizard, waiting.

"You've made a good case. Yes, I will teach you the spell," Severus said, "And you will not breathe a word to anyone about it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir," she said.

"I will let you know when we can begin," the wizard said, heading for the door, "And get back to second year charms. I don't want you turning the simplest swish and flick into something deadly when it comes time to teach you. I've enough bumblers to deal with without adding you to the ranks."

Actually, Severus didn't spend much time with the students as he used to, thank to Bartholomew, but the sentiment was still the same.

"Yes sir," Volaria said, nodding vigorously and picking up the Advanced Potions book to return it to the shelf.

Severus gave her one more penetrating stare, then exited, warding the door securely behind him.

She certainly reminded him of Hermione in her younger years…but Volaria was much more logical, not to mention more in touch with how ugly the world really was.

* * *

Hermione was in the lab, peering at several cages. Six pair of malevolent eyes stared back at her hatefully from scaly little hideous faces. A couple of Dark Pixies hissed at her flicking their tiny forked tongues in and out. 

Even though she made them, Hermione couldn't help shuddering a little. She had to strengthen the dampening spell around the cages. The little creatures grew in power and could toast a witch or wizard if they got the opportunity. It took her hair catching on fire for Hermione to realize it.

The little bastard that flamed her was the first one she planned to test the anti-elixir on. The offending Voldie-pixie looked at her balefully, its tiny purple scaly hands clasping the bars of its cage as it stared out at the witch

Hermione had carefully made several batches of elixir, all with readjustments and gradual decreases in the ratio of venom to agistani blooms. Hopefully that would be the key to the reversal. The visual changes in the elixir were that instead of being black and thick, it was now a crimson color. Hermione knew that Voldemort had black blood. The crimson color was very near the color of human blood…not that it made a difference really, but Hermione hoped the healthy blood red was a sign the elixir could be cleansed from the body and the effects reversed.

She waited a few minutes more for Severus, then when he didn't show…she went ahead and prepared to dose the first Dark pixie.

She added a bit of anti-elixir to a purified beaker. Next to the beaker, on a piece of parchment, rested a sterilized eyedropper. Next to that, a large hands-free magnifying glassed was bolted to the counter. And next to that was a pair of thin, magically fire-resistant/bite resistant gloves Hermione had charmed herself because the dragonhide glove were too thick for the careful work she had to do.. These new gloves ran up to her elbows and offered better protection. A Dark pixie bite was probably very painful if not fatal. They certainly looked malicious enough to kill.

Hermione picked up the cage and positioned it so the door was facing her. The pixie within immediately fluttered back to the far end of the cage. It seemed the elixir made them more intelligent than normal pixies, who wouldn't know they were about to be taken until the door was actually opened. This pixie seemed to know beforehand that Hermione was up to no good. It watched, red eyes glittering as Hermione checked her ponytail to make sure there were no loose strands. Then she pulled on the gloves and frowned at the pixie.

"Flame me, will you?" she said with a grimace as the pixie threw up its small hands and flamed at her as she opened the cage. She had to grab the creature with its arms pinned to the side to keep it from using its defenses.

The creature was less than cooperative, darting around the cage like a big, horrible hornet, hissing and biting at her hands, flaming her again and again. Most pixies ran out of flame after the fifth or sixth shot and had to rest and regenerate their power, but the Voldie-pixies seemed to have an endless amount of powerful shots.

"Hold still damn it!" Hermione cursed through gritted teeth as she tried to grab the pixie, which flew back and forth quickly, hissing and flicking its tongue.

She didn't notice Severus had quietly slipped in and was watching her with a mixed look of disgust and amusement on his face. Gods, the creatures were hideous and really did favor Voldemort.

Finally Hermione just batted it hard to the floor of the cage in aggravation, knocking it out.

"Oops," she said, but grabbed the little bugger anyway. Severus grinned. Such violence from Bleeding Heart Hermione.

"Now I've got you. Wake up," she said, holding the creature loosely in her fist, walking over to the sink, turning it on and flicking a little water in its face.

After a moment or two the pixie roused, realized where it was and tried to sink its teeth into Hermione's hand with a hiss of rage. It couldn't get through the glove. Its shoulders wriggled as it struggled to work its way loose.

"I've got you now," Hermione said with a nasty grin.

She was enjoying this way too much. Severus shook his head as she walked back over to the counter and carefully drew a bit of elixir into the dropper and fed it to the pixie, which made a valiant effort not to take it. Alas, she was bigger than he was and forced the tip into the creature's mouth and made it swallow by not withdrawing it until she saw its throat muscles work and a look of disgust cross the tiny, homely face.

The creature began to shudder strongly, and Hermione placed it on the counter, well back from the edge, grabbed her parchment pad and muggle pen and began taking notes.

She watched as the creature shuddered, then began to convulse horribly, twisting about, its face contorted in agony. It changed color, becoming slightly bluer, and its skin began to drop scales. The red eyes dulled for a bit, then black blood burst from its nose and mouth and the creature fell still.

Hermione continued to observe it, in case it revived. But it didn't. Still there were some physical changes before it succumbed. She picked it up and carried it to the cutting board for dissection.

"That was quite a grisly display," the Potions Master said.

Hermione looked up at him, startled.

"How long have you been here?" Hermione asked the wizard, wiping her gloved hands on her lab coat self-consciously.

"Long enough to see you resort to violence to catch the pixie," he said, smirking, "One would think you'd handle your test subjects more…delicately."

"It pissed me off," Hermione said, her nostrils flared, "But there were some changes in the creature before it died."

"The burst of blood is normal in the original transformation…it occurs when the human blood transforms. It could mean that the transformed blood is undergoing a reversal as well," Severus said, looking down on the dead creature as Hermione pulled off her charmed gloves and put on a pair of latex ones.

She picked up a box of pins and a scalpel and set them next to the cutting board as Severus peered at the other pixies.

"Quite the transformation," he commented as the creatures flamed at him ineffectually, "Bloodthirsty little buggers."

"They'd as soon fry you as look at you," Hermione replied as she slid the pixie's body under the magnifying glass and made the first cut in the it shoulder, eventually creating a "Y" incision that allowed her to peel the skin back and see the ribcage and internal organs. She fell silent as she threw herself into her work, muttering from time to time as she examined the creature. It was as if the Potions Master wasn't even there.

Severus had expected this however, and spent his time reading her research notes and checking in on the cobras who looked no worse for wear, greeting him with hisses and spread hoods as he entered their enclosure. They were getting bigger, probably due to Hagrid's overfeeding.

He left the enclosure to find Hermione meticulously cutting organs out of the pixie and carefully removing them with tweezers.

"I am making a new batch of purple potion," he said to the witch, who grunted at him.

"It will be ready tonight," the wizard continued.

"Umm, hmmm," Hermione responded, completely focused on the pixie.

"I've hung a few rope restraints, installed a pillory and a whipping post in my bedroom for a bit of bondage action," Severus said, "I figure I will wear pewter chain mail and a black leather loin cloth for easy flip-up access. Is that all right with you?"

"That's just fine, Severus," Hermione said absently.

The wizard smirked. Hermione was lucky Severus wasn't into causing her pain beyond his sex otherwise his rooms would be sounding like Father Christmas' workshop right now.

But the witch was in her element and really had made some progress.

"I'll be going now Hermione," Severus said to the witch, who was now staring through her magnifying glass and turning over a small organ that looked like a liver with a thin pointed wooden dowel.

"All right," she said, not looking up.

"I'll be returning with food in a little while. You will eat it," he said with a note of warning in his voice.

"Yes, yes…ok," she said, a bit of irritation in her voice as she worked. Her hair was starting to frizz.

It was definitely time to go. The amount of time between Hermione's first hiss of irritation and an all out tantrum over being interrupted was quite a small increment. Severus beat a rather hasty retreat, although there would be no avoiding the tantrum when he returned with food and drink and tried to make her eat. Most likely he would have to carry her out of the lab bodily.

He thought he wouldn't mind that. The thought of Hermione squirming against him was quite…yummy.

The wizard walked up the long flight of stairs, heading for his lab again.

There was still a bit of stirring to do as far as the purple potion was concerned, though the gods knew when he'd get to test it out.

He made no attempt to tell Hermione anything about tonight. It wouldn't have registered. He'd tell her after he made her leave the lab tonight at a decent time

She certainly wouldn't do it under her own steam.

* * *

Death Eaters milled about the refurbished revel room beneath Pumbleberry's mansion. A large oval space bordered by iron separators made a makeshift arena. The separators were charmed so those who entered the arena could not exit until the match was over. No one would be running away. The only way out was one leaving by foot and the other on a slab. 

The spectator seats were elevated so the audience wouldn't be struck by spells cast by the opponents. The seats were being quickly filled by excited viewers ready to witness battles to the death. Everyone clutched parchments in their hands listing the competitors and where they were in the line-up.

Pumbleberry and Rosier sat in a box at the end of the oval, the Lord of the Manor hemming importantly as he watched the seats fill up. Suddenly he stiffened.

"Isn't that…erm…Bellatrix LeStrange?" he asked Rosier. Devon looked at the narrow-eyed witch as she mounted the stairs and slid into a row, sitting down with a frown.

"Yes it is," he said darkly.

Rosier waved over two burly Death Eaters and muttered something in their ears. They both looked over at Bella with narrowed eyes, nodded then surreptiously walked to that side of the arena and took seats behind the witch.

Better to be safe than sorry. If she tried to disrupt the competition, Bella would be fried before she could get a single hex out.

Severus was already in his seat, up in the highest row where he could see the entire arena clearly from end to end. Suddenly he felt someone sit next to him. He looked over.

"Draco?" the Potions Master said, surprised.

Draco nodded somberly, his gray eyes sweeping the arena.

"Thought I'd better be here," the pureblood said, "It made no sense to sit in the manor feeling sorry for myself, Professor. It's not going to bring Malina back and there's work to be done."

Severus nodded, his black eyes washing over Draco a moment before he pointed out Bellatrix.

"As you can see, Bella has put in an appearance. She is alone. Probably here to size up the winners," the wizard said.

"She doesn't look very happy," Draco observed as he looked at the frowning woman. He noticed the burly wizards sitting behind her, staring at the back of the witch's head, "and it seems she has company."

"Rosier is a fool if he thinks she doesn't know she's being watched," Severus said, "If she does anything, those two behind her will be the first to go."

Draco stared at Bella, then said, "We're going to have to help her if she does do anything. She has to get back to Voltaire."

"I know," Severus muttered, "Let's just hope the witch keeps her head."

Draco looked down at the parchment identifying opponents.

"Hm. Fenrir Greyback vs. Desecratia Holly," he mused, looking at the moving photos next to the names.

The red-head with the wild eyes looked pretty tiny compared to the snarling Fenrir. The photos made hateful faces at each other.

"Doesn't look like a very even match," Draco said.

Severus just shook his head in agreement.

Suddenly everyone went silent as Rosier stood up in the box and placed the tip of his wand against his throat, invoking the Sonorous charm, amplifying his voice.

"Welcome to the Competition, the purpose of which is to find the strongest and most worthy among us to become the next Dark Lord or Lady. Tonight's event is an elimination. Out of twenty-six competitors only thirteen will leave this arena alive. There will be no Unforgivables used in the competition. Other than that, anything goes. Two opponents will enter this arena and only one will leave under his or her own steam. Tonight's survi…er…winners will then face off in another elimination competition in one week. And so forth until we have two top contenders, who will challenge each other to prove who is the strongest. This final duel will not be to the death but to choose a winner and runner-up. Then the winner will be transformed into the new Dark Lord."

A cheer went up from the Death Eaters, Bellatrix's face turning black with rage as everyone applauded around her. They would pay. They all would pay.

Rosier held up his hand and the crowd quieted.

"In the event the winner does not survive the transformation, we will then give the runner-up a chance at greatness. If he or she succumbs, then the process will begin again with slightly different rules. Yet, this is not the time to discuss such things. There is dueling afoot!"

Again the crowd cheered, this time stomping on the floorboards and making an awful din.

Rosier sat down and Pumbleberry stood up, holding his thumbs in the lapels of his suit importantly as he eyed the crowd, which quieted. He then reached into his pocket, withdrew his wand and placed the tip to his throat, amplifying his voice

"Our…erm…first competitors, Marshall Thurin and…erm… Michael Woe, enter the arena, wands…erm…at your sides!" he bellowed.

The silent crowd watched as the separators at either end of the arena opened and two wizards entered, one blonde wizard in traditional robes and boots, and a dark haired wizard in what appeared to be a sweat suit and trainers. Both men snarled at each other, death flashing in their eyes as the metal boundaries swung back, locking them in.

"BEGIN!" Pumbleberry roared excitedly, plopping back down in his seat and leaning forward.

"Expelliamus!" Marshall cried, the blonde robed wizard charging toward his opponent, who parried the hex, lunging forward himself and making a slicing motion with his own wand but not saying anything.

"Non-verbal," Draco hissed as Marshall twisted aside, the unspoken hex slicing through his robes, the fabric falling to the ground as the crowd cheered. Before Marshall could recover, Michael smashed into him, taking him down to the ground, the wizards struggling, each clasping the wrist of the other in an attempt to keep wands from being utilized as the crowd cheered.

The wizards wrestled desperately, Michael clearly the better fighter, smashing Marshall in the face again and again. Marshall twisted awkwardly, one hand disappearing between their straining bodies.

Suddenly, there was a flash of silver and Michael tried to scramble away as Marshall leaped on his back, driving a dagger between the wizard's shoulder blades over and over until Michael lay still in a pool of crimson, his back wet with blood. He was dead of multiple stab wounds.

Marshall staggered to his feet, holding up the bloody blade in triumph as the crowd cheered.

"Well done! Well done!" Pumbleberry praised as a contingent of house elves walked into the arena and took Michael Woe's dripping body away, one elf following behind cleaning up the spots of blood as Marshall exited the other end of the arena the same way he came in, smiling and waving at the cheering crowd. The Death Eaters were quite pleased…there had been plenty of blood.

Draco was scowling as he watched the victorious wizard leave the arena.

"That wasn't fair. The other wizard didn't have a weapon," he said.

"Anything goes," was Severus' only comment.

As far as the Potions Master was concerned, in a life and death struggle anything was fair as long as you survived. Draco was surprisingly Gryffindorish in his comment. Maybe Love had made him go a bit soft.

"Erm…an excellent beginning!" Pumbleberry hemmed, "Next up, Elizabeth…erm…Yaxley vs. Thomas Muttonchops!"

The crowd cheered as Elizabeth and her opponent entered, both of their eyes narrowed as they sized each other up.

"You're a pretty piece, witch. Too bad you're going to be worm food," Thomas called across the arena to her.

"Don't count on it," Elizabeth said back to him with an evil smirk, her body in an offensive position as she waited for Pumbleberry to give the word. Her blue eyes were narrow with purpose. Pretty piece indeed.

"BEGIN!" Pumbleberry cried.

Elizabeth immediately darted to the side, slipping the explosive hex Thomas flung at her, raising her wand and moving it in a wide arc.

"Nocturnus!" she cried.

Suddenly the entire arena was covered in thick, black smoke, the crowd shouting in anger.

"Infra Visiones" Elizabeth muttered.

Immediately she saw the outline of Thomas flailing through the thick smoke, shooting blasts wildly.

"Show yourself you bitch!" he screamed angrily.

"I'm coming," Elizabeth said softly, easing toward the wizard. She could hear the crowd complaining and didn't give a fuck. The witch was in this to win this.

All the crowd could see were flashes of light issuing from one place in the cloud and hear the crack of the hexes Thomas was throwing following each flash.

"He's dead," Severus said with certainty.

Sure enough, a hoarse scream sounded, then was suddenly cut off. All flashes stopped.

"Nocturnis nox," Elizabeth breathed, and the cloud dissipated, leaving her standing over the body of Thomas Muttonchop, who was neatly decapitated, his limbs severed and still quivering, blood everywhere.

"Muttonchop," Elizabeth said, looking down at the dismembered wizard as the crowd gasped then cheered, "At least you lived up to your name."

The witch spun smartly and marched out of the arena, not even acknowledging the screaming crowd.

"Ooh, that was nasty," Draco said.

Bellatrix watched Elizabeth leave the arena with narrowed eyes. The witch wasn't as soft as she thought. And treacherous. She'd have to remember that if she made it to the finals.

Two more competitions followed. The first was ended by a blinding hex followed by the injured wizard's throat being slashed so severely his head flipped back like Nearly Headless Nick's. The next competition's end was particularly nasty, the opposing wizard hit with a spell that swelled his body up until he exploded into pieces, chunks of flesh scattering all over the arena. blood even splattering some of the crowd, which loved it. Some rubbed the ichor into their skin.

"Next up…erm…Fenrir Greyback vs…erm…Desecratia Holly!" Pumbleberry called out.

Fenrir strode into the arena, wearing his too-tight robes, all his pointed teeth showing as he smiled wolfishly, his wand clutched in his huge, dirty hand. Even elevated, the crowd could smell him.

Then a small, anorexic, red-haired witch in black robes entered from the other end, her eyes shifting around the arena wildly before settling on the enormous wizard at the other end. The crowd groaned. This wasn't going to be much of a match.

"You're hardly a mouthful, witch," Fenrir sneered at her, licking his teeth with his tongue.

Desecratia's face was suddenly filled with abject hatred. She looked quite insane.

"Fenrir better watch himself," Severus said, his black eyes resting on the tiny witch, "She's out for blood. Size doesn't matter."

Draco looked at the witch. He was with the rest of the crowd. Fenrir was going to smash her, maybe literally.

"This doesn't seem…erm…like a fair match-up, Devon," Pumbleberry said to the wizard who sat with his arms folded.

"She knew what she was getting into," he replied.

Pumbleberry looked at the crazed look on the woman's face.

"Are you sure she was even capable of making a decision like this? She looks quite mad," Pumbleberry said.

"Just start them," Devon snapped.

He wasn't going to take any responsibility for what followed. Everyone chose to compete. They should know their own limitations.

Pumbleberry enhanced his voice again.

"BEGIN!" he said half-heartedly.

Fenrir snarled at the witch pointed her wand at herself rather than him.

"Pronto," she hissed, then streaked away at an amazing speed, a blur following as she zipped behind Fenrir, who had thrown a hex to find she was no longer there. The crowd gasped as the witch snarled, "Argenti Liquis!"

Fenrir roared as a stream of liquid silver flew from the witch's wand, the werewolf bounding away only a speckling landing on him…but it burned like hell and his robes were smoking.

Desecratia streaked after him, again shooting silver at the werewolf, hitting him squarely in the chest, Fenrir tearing his robes from his body as he fled, not getting a chance to use his wand, his flesh burning now as he ran around the arena trying to avoid the pursuing witch. Damn, he had underestimated her.

He continued to bound about the arena, the witch in pursuit and the crowd jeering him for being such a coward. He couldn't even stop to use his wand and his body was covered in burns. What could he do with the witch on top of him like this?

Then it came to him. He put on a burst of speed and the witch matched him.

Suddenly he stopped turned as Desecratia ran toward him and she couldn't stop. She ran directly into the werewolf, her eyes wide with fear and screaming as Fenrir crushed her body to his, feeling her bones breaking, his pointed teeth closing over her face. The wizard bit down hard. Blood ran around his mouth, down his jaw and into his matted beard. There was a sickening crunch and the werewolf flung the witch's body away and spit out her face.

The sound of gagging and vomiting filled the arena as the werewolf licked his lips then held up his hands in victory before walking up to Desecretia's faceless body and urinating on it. The crowd went berserk, Severus shaking his head.

"The gods help us if he ever becomes the Dark Lord," the wizard breathed.

Draco sat up, looking a bit green and pulled out his wand to scourgify the contents of his stomach he had spilled all over the floorboards.

"He won't," Draco said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "Not if I have to blast the elixir out of his hand myself. He'd turn everyone into werewolves."

Bellatrix stared at the departing werewolf, her eyes full of hatred. She would have to kill him for certain if he survived the competition. He was too dangerous. In fact, they were all dangerous. Well, let them weed themselves out…it was the final two she needed to concern herself with. When the decision was made, then she would make her move.

It would be a coup, she was sure of it.

Severus and Draco watched the rest of the competition until the final thirteen competitors were marched into the ring and cheered by the Death Eaters. They had done well, but eyed each other, particularly Elizabeth and Fenrir.

"You survived the first round witch. I hope to have you as my opponent next draw. Maybe I'll publicly rape you before I dispatch you," the wizard growled at her in a low voice as the other competitors grimaced.

"I'm going to cut your tool off and shove it down your throat before I kill you," the witch seethed.

"Smoke won't work on me," the wizard replied, "I don't need to see you. I can smell you."

"I'll be prepared, dogface, don't worry," Elizabeth snapped, "Enjoy your last days."

The hatred between the witch and werewolf was palpable as they exited the arena. The drawing would be tonight in private and they would have a week to prepare for the next leg. There would be an odd man out however and someone would have to fight twice. That drawbridge would be crossed when they came to it.

Severus and Draco departed the mansion, both silent and thoughtful. The competition had been every bit as violent and horrible as they believed it would be…but at least it was Death Eater against Death Eater, and not innocents. Those deaths were easier to accept.

Suddenly Bellatrix appeared out of nowhere.

"I need to talk to you Severus," she hissed, giving Draco a "get lost" look.

"I'll see you later, Professor," the pureblood said, nodding to Bella pleasantly then disapparating for his manor.

"It is time for another treatment for Voltaire. He is strong but he needs to be stronger," she said to the Potions Master. "You must come and administer more elixir. His time is drawing close. Meet me by the stones Sunday evening at sunset."

Severus noted this was not a request, but more of an order. Still he'd like another look at Voltaire.

"As you wish, Bella," he said.

Bella nodded. She liked his easy acceptance of the situation.

"You will be rewarded for your help, Severus," she said, "The Dark Lord will be pleased with you."

Severus could only imagine the reward Voltaire would have in store for him. He had done his father a great service developing the elixir, but once he came into full power he tormented the wizard at will. His son would do no less.

Severus bowed.

"Sunday at sunset," he repeated to the witch, then disapparated.

Bella looked back toward the secret entrance to the bowels of the manor, watching all the departing Death Eaters.

"Traitors. Blackguards. Voltaire will make them pay for trying to usurp his throne. Each one will feel his wrath…each and every one," she hissed to herself before she too, disapparated.

* * *

Severus returned to Hogwarts and retired, feeling exhausted. The next morning after breakfast he reported to Albus, who was glad to find out that Draco was also at the competition. Then he looked a bit concerned about Bella asking the wizard to come to her stronghold and treat Voltaire. 

"Did she ask about Volaria?" the Headmaster asked him.

"No, she did not…most likely because she was so enraged about the contest," the Potions Master said, "No doubt she will be full of questions and suspicious of me when I meet with her. Volaria witnessed me giving Voltaire the elixir and Bella will wonder why I haven't been arrested if Volaria told everything."

"She might be meeting with you with the intent of killing you, Severus," Albus said, his blue eyes dark.

"No. I believe she will listen to me first. I have an answer for her explaining why I haven't been discovered," Severus said, "I plan to tell Bella that when I found Volaria in my rooms I immediately reported her presence to you, which is protocol when a female student is found alone in a male teacher's private rooms. This I did for my own protection."

Albus nodded, listening carefully.

I will then say while I was waiting for you, Volaria mentioned Bella's name, saying she would be furious. I immediately realized the witch was from her stronghold and obliviated all memory of myself from the girl's mind before you arrived," the Potions Master continued.

"Ah yes. You would have time to do more than that," the old wizard said with a smile.

"Precisely. It would make sense I would look out for my own interests first. She will believe me, though she will be angry Volaria has told about her brother," Severus said, "I will tell her that the girl's tale is being looked at skeptically and that you have not turned her over to the Ministry, thinking she requires help and not interrogation. Volaria claiming to be Voldemort's daughter is almost the same as her claiming to be Queen Elizabeth after all. Your history of being a soft touch will come in handy, Headmaster."

Albus' eyes twinkled merrily at Severus' assessment of him.

"Still Voltaire is well protected and safe from discovery. As long as she believes that she still has the upper hand, Bella will continue her plans," Severus finished.

"Still Severus, I want you to exercise extreme caution. There's no telling how much the boy has changed since you last saw him," the Headmaster said warningly.

"No doubt Bella has filled his head with thoughts of even greater grandeur," Severus said, his eyes glinting, "Perhaps she's made him overconfident concerning his powers. This could be a good thing. I will show him proper deference…for now. Though I still believe, Albus…"

The Headmaster waved a hand at the wizard, stopping him from finishing his sentence.

"I know you believe the boy should be killed Severus. I am taking it under 'advisement.' But if I can save him, I will do my best to do so. There's a very hard-working young witch working towards that end as well," Albus said as Severus rolled his eyes.

It was a wonder Hogwarts remained standing as long as it had with Albus inviting destruction within its walls at every turn. But then again, it had remained standing. Severus wasn't sure if it was the old wizard's wisdom or just plain dumb luck. Personally, Severus didn't believe in leaving things to chance.

Which was why he agreed to help Volaria.

The wizard bid goodbye to the Headmaster and took the floo to his private rooms, where he found a very worried Hermione waiting for him in the armchair facing the floo. She hadn't even gone down to her labs this morning.

"Don't tell me I've been elevated above those abominations in your labs in importance," the Potions Master purred at the witch as he brushed off his robes.

"You could've told me you had to go on a mission earlier than half an hour before you actually left," Hermione griped at him, "I worried about you all night."

The witch rose, walked over to him and stood on her tiptoes as Severus obligingly lowered his cheek so she could kiss it.

"If I had told you earlier, then you would have worried about me all day and all night," he replied evenly, "I saved you valuable worry time."

"Well, what happened?" Hermione asked him.

"Thirteen Death Eaters died," Severus replied, "In very nasty ways. I'm sure you don't want the details."

Hermione fought the morbid curiosity welling up inside her.

"Just tell me about one death," she said to him sitting back down in the chair.

Severus eyed her for a moment.

"Fenrir Greyback bit a witch's face off and spit it out," he said, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Oh my gods! How awful! Fenrir should have never been pitted against a witch," Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"That witch damn near killed him," Severus replied, "She had a speed spell and was casting liquid silver on him. If she had been more careful she could have defeated him…but the speed spell made her run right into the werewolf."

Hermione shuddered again, then asked if Bella were present.

"Yes, she was. I'm to meet her Sunday evening and attend to Voltaire with another dosing of elixir," the wizard said.

Hermione looked at him wide-eyed.

"Did she say anything about Volaria?" she asked the wizard, a knot in her stomach as she tried not to voice her dismay about Severus meeting with the insane witch again.

"No, but I expect she will ask about the witch when she sees me next," the Potions Master replied, walking over to his desk, opening the drawer and taking out some parchments. He set them on top of the desk as Hermione watched him. How could he be so cool with what he was going to face.

"Suppose she accuses you of purposely taking her?" Hermione asked him, her own imagination of the terrible things that could happen taking over.

"That is highly unlikely since I had no idea the girl even existed," he replied, narrowing his eyes at Hermione, "Don't go creating scenarios that don't exist Hermione or you'll be beside yourself with worry before I leave tomorrow evening. Don't make me regret telling you beforehand."

Hermione fell silent and the Potions Master walked back over to her, catching her by the hand and drawing her out of the chair.

"Listen, you have less than a month to get your anti-elixir completed. Bella and Voltaire will most likely strike on the day of the final competition. The boy will be taken one way or another," Severus said, his dark eyes appearing even darker, "If he is taken alive and you wish to save him, witch, you have to complete your research. You already know how I feel."

"Yes, I do," Hermione said, drawing her hand out of the Potion Master grip while frowning slightly, "And surprisingly you aren't alone. Volaria agrees with you, though she hasn't said Voltaire should be killed. She really doesn't believe he should be given any kind of chance. I think that is rather unfair of her, considering we've given her a chance. Otherwise she's a sweet witch."

"It could be she is a smart witch," Severus replied, shocking the shit out of Hermione.

"What? Are you giving Volaria a compliment, Severus? After the way you've treated her?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"No. I am merely making an observation, Hermione. Volaria has been raised with her brother and knows his ways. She shouldn't be ignored concerning her assessment of what he is capable of," the wizard said.

"She's a child. She doesn't have the experience to make that kind of assessment. Her development has been stunted as well. Bella's unforgiving nature could have rubbed off on her. She believes Voltaire wants to kill her," Hermione said, "We don't even know if that's true, to be honest."

Now it was Severus' turn to look surprised.

"Do you doubt the witch's truthfulness, Hermione?" he asked her, "You led me to believe that you trusted the witch's word."

Hermione looked distinctly uncomfortable. The truth of the matter was she was turning on Volaria slightly in order to press her point that Voltaire should be treated and given a chance to change his ways. It was dirty Quidditch to be sure.

Of course, Severus knew exactly what she was doing. It was quite Slytherin if less than honest. He looked at the witch consideringly.

"I'm simply saying her view of the situation can be warped because of her background," Hermione said lamely, "I'm sure she believes what she's saying. I'm just not sure it is correct."

Severus arched an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. Hermione continued to look uncomfortable. Finally she said, "I need to get down to the lab, Severus."

The wizard simply nodded and watched as Hermione left without so much as a kiss, her face slightly pinched as she exited his study.

"Guilt. Gryffindors are ill-prepared to deal with it," he said to himself, walking over to his desk, sitting down and drawing the parchments resting there towards him. He was working on the end of year Potions exam for Bartholomew's students.

It wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

In Hermione's bedroom, Volaria spun slowly looking at her Ravenclaw robes. She was very excited. She would be moving into Ravenclaw house Sunday evening and starting classes on Monday. She would be around normal wizards and witches her own age and quite possibly make some friends. 

She would be supremely happy if not for one problem, Voltaire. But Professor Snape had agreed to help her learn the spell she needed. Perhaps she wouldn't have to use it, but deep down Volaria knew most likely she would. And when she did, her beautiful wand would be snapped.

Mr. Ollivander said that he believed she was going to do great things. Perhaps, perhaps this was the great thing she had to do…protect the wizarding world from another wizard like her father.

* * *

Eloise finished pitching hay over the fence for the livestock, leaning on the pitchfork and wiping her brow. Rubin appeared with a large cold glass of pumpkin juice and offered it to the muggle. 

Eloise took it and thanked him. She took a sip and made a horrible face.

"What is this?" she asked, looking at the pale orange liquid.

"Why, that's pumpkin juice. Homemade," Rubin said, surprised she didn't like it.

"Ewwww," Eloise said, handing the glass back to Rubin, "No offense, Rubin but I like pumpkin as pudding and pie, not something to drink.

She shuddered a little. Rubin looked at her closely and noticed her eyebrows were thick, furry and growing together and a little mustache was growing over her lip. Her ankles were pretty hairy too. She was a bit ripe as well, but he knew that was normal for a werewolf. But all the hair…

He began to think of what the woman would need to keep herself up. Firstly, a mirror. He had no doubt she had no idea what she looked like.

"Ah, you know Eloise, I've just realized you have different needs than my boy and Lupin," the farmer said, "I'm going to get you some magical razors…and I guess you need some…some feminine products too."

Rubin reddened slightly. He was going to have to get her some pads for her period.

Suddenly, at the mention of razors, Eloise felt itchy all over as if just made aware of all the hair she was sprouting. She ran her hand over her face and felt her eyebrows.

"Oh, I look awful, don't I Rubin?" she said to the farmer despairingly.

"No, not awful. Just hairy," he replied. "I've got a mirror in the house and some razors. Go on over to the barn and I'll bring them out for you, set them up. I'll bring you some cold water too."

Eloise thanked Rubin, rested the pitchfork against the fence and walked over to the barn where her enclosure was. She had just walked through the door when she heard the crack of apparition. She looked back out and saw Remus with a few bags in his hands, walking toward her. She quickly ran back inside.

"I look awful," she said as she entered the caged area. Rubin had fixed it up nicely for her. She had a full-sized bed, a rug, a night stand, an armchair and small table with two chairs. He had also sprung for a magical chamber pot that emptied immediately on use, the contents sent to a field he wanted fertilized. There was also a bucket that remained full of warm water to wash with.

Remus knocked on the door.

"May I come in, Eloise?" he asked politely.

The muggle sat down at the table

"Yes, but don't look at me," she said, turning her face to the wall.

Remus' eyebrows rose at this comment, but he didn't say anything as he entered the cage and set the bags on the table.

"I…I brought you some clothes and robes," he said to the muggle, "Just some things so you will fit in. I had to guess your size."

Eloise kept her face turned from him.

"Thank you," she said.

"I…I…also brought you some personal things. Scented soap, toothpowder and a toothbrush, a comb, brush, hair ties and some…er…some feminine things. Pads," he said softly.

Buying these items for Eloise had almost cleaned Remus out. He didn't have much money, but she needed things to make her life easier, and he wanted to show her he cared about her situation.

"May I sit down?" he asked her.

"Yes, but don't…" Eloise began.

"Yes, I know…don't look at you," he finished for her, "But do you mind if I ask you why you don't want me to look at you?"

"I'm all covered with hair," she said, her lip trembling.

Remus smirked.

"Yes. Females seem to have worse hair growth than male werewolves," Remus said soothingly, "But I don't mind hair on a woman. I find it…rather nice."

Eloise snorted.

"Well I don't," she snapped.

Deciding this was sensitive ground, Remus changed the subject and told Eloise what Albus had said, and how he would help if the Ministry tried to sterilize her.

Rubin entered the barn, greeting Remus and walked into the cage, placing a glass of cold water in front of Eloise, then hanging up a small mirror on the wall magically with his wand.

"No silver in that mirror," he said to Eloise, then he placed several razors on the table.

"Whatever you shave with these won't grow back for a week. It's the best I can do for now," he said to the upset woman. He eyed the bags on the table.

"What you got there, Remus?" he asked.

Remus told him.

"Must have cost you a pretty galleon," the farmer said, eyeing Remus speculatively.

Werewolves gave gifts to bitches they were attracted to. The farmer had no doubt this was what was happening with Remus. Well, he was a nice young wizard. He deserved a bit of happiness.

"Eloise needs these things," Remus said.

"I'll pay you back as soon as I get a job," Eloise said suddenly.

"No problem," Remus said. He didn't want her to pay him back but it was easy to see Eloise was the independent type. He might insult her if he refused to accept payment. You had to be careful with alpha females, transformed or not.

"Tomorrow, I want to take you to the Ministry and register you," Remus said to Eloise, "Then if you like, we can visit the werewolf village. As a registered werewolf, you can settle there if you like."

"I don't want to live around a bunch of werewolves. You don't do you?" Eloise asked him.

"No, I don't," Remus admitted.

"Besides, doesn't Fenrir live there?" the muggle asked.

"Not really. He is wanted for his crimes so lays low for the most part, hiding in uninhabited areas. He does pop up now and then," Remus replied, scowling slightly.

"That he does. I'm going to alter the charms on this barn to lock you in each night, Eloise, for your own protection. You'll be able to open the door to the cage on the nights you aren't transformed if you like, but no one else will. More than likely Fenrir will be back for you. Just let him know you are registered now," Rubin said.

"Will he leave me alone then?" Eloise asked.

Remus and Rubin looked at each other.

"I…I…can't say he will, Eloise. If you aren't sterilized, he'll know you can bear offspring. That makes you valuable to him. He might keep coming around…but the good part is Fenrir only comes out under the cover of night. During the day you will be safe," Remus said.

"I want him to keep coming around, at least until I can figure out a way to kill him," she seethed hatefully.

Remus and Rubin looked at each other again.

"Fenrir is very powerful, Eloise. He won't be easy to kill," Rubin said, frowning slightly at the muggle.

"Maybe if only one werewolf attacks him, but how about two?" she asked, looking directly at Remus, her anger overriding the way she looked.

Remus' heart began to pound as he met her gaze. Although he was in human form, he could feel the dominance in Eloise, and the desire to please her.

"Maybe two could do it, if they had a little help," Rubin mused.

The farmer owed Fenrir big for turning his son all those years ago, a turning which eventually resulted in the troubled youth's death.

"Let me think on it a bit," the wizard said, exiting the barn and leaving Remus and Eloise alone with each other. Eloise looked down at the razors then picked one up, walking over to the mirror.

"Do I need to use lather with this?" she called back to Remus.

"No. It will only cut hair," the werewolf replied, watching as Eloise went to work on her hairy eyebrows. It was surprisingly easy. It was as if she couldn't make a mistake. The razor was well charmed. She removed the mustache and the hair on her chin, running her hand over her smooth face. She'd have to wait until later to do her legs because of Remus' presence.

"Now I feel human again," she said, returning to the table and smiling at Remus, who gave her a small smile back. Eloise was a pretty muggle.

"Werewolf," Remus mentally corrected himself, then cleared his throat nervously.

Eloise looked at him curiously, noticing he had turned rather red.

"What's wrong, Remus?" she asked him.

"I…er…I need to talk to you about something rather…personal, Eloise. I don't quite know how to do it," he said, swallowing.

"Just spit it out, Remus. I can take it," she responded, her eyes darkening a bit. Eloise wasn't very patient.

"It's about your menstrual cycle," the wizard said quickly, "If it ends just before the full moon rises, you will go into heat."

Eloise raised both of her eyebrows.

"Heat? Humans don't go into heat, Remus. We're pretty much ready to fuck all the time," she replied.

Remus was a little shocked at her language, and slightly aroused. Eloise didn't mince words did she?

"But werewolves go into heat, Eloise. It's a natural response. You're…you're going to want to mate very badly. It's not something that can be controlled. You'll seek out a mate if one isn't available," Remus said softly.

Eloise stared at him.

"It will affect your human form as well…it is a very powerful instinct. You are going to have to be locked up if that happens. If any werewolves get a whiff of you, the farm will be covered in them," Remus said. "There will be fights as well."

"Damn," Eloise said, "Isn't there any way to stop it?"

"Getting sterilized," he replied.

Eloise shook her head.

"That's not an option. No one is going to tell me what to do with my body," Eloise declared, slapping her hand on the table for emphasis.

Remus stared at her for a moment, lost in a little fantasy about being the only werewolf in the vicinity when she went into heat.

"Remus?" Eloise called, and the wizard started guiltily, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Sorry, I drifted off," he said.

"I see that," Eloise said, looking at him speculatively. He had been licking his lips quite sexily. Remus wasn't a bad looking bloke. He was nice too. Not pushy or overbearing at all.

"I'd better be going, Eloise," Remus said, rising and hoping his slight erection wouldn't be visible under his robes. Eloise didn't seem to notice. "I will pick you up tomorrow at ten to take you to the Ministry. Now, we might not be treated that well…it is important you keep your temper at all times. We just have to register and go. All right?"

Eloise bristled. What did Remus mean they wouldn't be treated well?

Remus felt her increased heartbeat and pulse of anger. Well, if he had to, he'd place a calming spell on her before they went in.

"All right," Eloise replied, though it wasn't all right at all.

"Until tomorrow then, Eloise," Remus said, giving the muggle a little bow and exiting the barn. The sound of apparition followed him.

"Not treated well, eh? We'll just see about that," Eloise snorted, rummaging through the bags Remus brought.

She had no intentions on being treated like a second-class citizen.

None of this was her fault.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading 


	12. Part 12

**A Song for Severus Part 12**

Eloise couldn't believe the Ministry was open on a Sunday. Remus explained it to her in no uncertain terms.

"Most of the Ministry is closed on the weekend but the Werewolf Department is open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They consider us 'special cases.' During the full moon there are enough Werewolf Control personnel here to start a small war," the wizard said as they walked around the side of the Ministry building and to the back. Next to a rather smelly dumpster was a wooden door with a sign over it.

"Werewolves Enter Here"

Eloise looked around. There was garbage all about.

"This is terrible. Don't they care what kind of impression they make?" she said, frowning, although she found the scent of garbage interesting enough to have to fight the urge to rummage through the dumpster.

Remus shook his head.

"No. The staff has their own entrance. Only werewolves come this way. They get rather nasty if you try to enter through any other entrance," he replied.

Remus pulled the door open to reveal a short hallway and another door, this one made of iron. On the wall was a small, hand-shaped depression. A female voice spoke.

"I detect two individuals. Place your mark on the handprint for identification," the voice said rather mechanically.

Remus placed the palm of his hand with the pentacle mark on the handprint, Eloise looking on curiously.

"Remus Lupin. Dog. Registered Werewolf. Next individual," the voice said.

Remus stepped aside and Eloise walked up to the print and carefully pressed her hand against it. After a moment the voice spoke.

"Unidentified female. Bitch. Unregistered Werewolf. Enter," the voice snapped.

Eloise didn't like the sound of it as the door opened. It was dark.

"Let the bitch enter first, Lupin," a voice growled.

Remus stepped aside, but caught Eloise's arm.

"Go in, very slowly and keep your hands where they can be seen," he said warningly.

Eloise nodded and entered a small waiting room with a counter. Her eyes adjusted quickly and she saw several wizards armed with clubs standing against the far wall, their eyes glittering at her. There were two rows of shabby wooden chairs, and three heavy wooden chairs with restraints, bolted to the floor.

"Walk slowly to the counter, bitch," the same voice growled. Eloise saw the wizard who spoke was standing behind the counter, his eyes narrowed as he looked her over.

Remus entered, looked at the armed wizards and took a seat, watching Eloise nervously.

The wizard behind the counter was Geoffrey Hiffle. He was brown-haired and brown-eyed, one side of his face deeply gouged by a claw mark. It was red and painful looking. And it was painful. Werewolf scratches never healed properly. He had taken the blow in the field one moonlit night and was now regulated to desk duty because of it. He had a grudge too

"What's your name, bitch?" he snarled at Eloise, who snarled right back, "It isn't bitch, that's for sure."

"Oh, you brought us a smart ass, eh Lupin? Well, we'll straighten her ass out. Where's your wand, witch? It has to be identified," Geoffrey hissed at her. Once they got her wand away from her, then she'd be easier to handle.

"I don't have a wand," Eloise said nastily, "I'm not a witch."

Geoffrey stared at her.

"What do you mean you're not a witch? Of course you're a bloody witch!" he declared.

Remus raised his hand and waved it to attract Geoffrey's attention. A werewolf never spoke out of place here.

"What Lupin?" Geoffrey snapped at him, not taking his eyes off of Eloise.

"She's a muggle. Fenrir turned her," the wizard offered.

Geoffrey stared at her before clapping his hand to his forehead. Shit, a muggle. Damn. This required a different kind of handling.

It seemed the Ministry of Magic and the British Government nearly came to blows over the treatment of a muggle werewolf, and now very strict rules were in place to cover them. As citizens of muggle Britain, they had certain rights not extending to citizens of the Magical world. Basically they held a kind of dual citizenship and as such had legal redress according to the British Rule of Law. Eloise could not be randomly beaten or banned from establishments legally, though she would be discouraged quite openly if she attempted to frequent any of them

If she were to be checked out, they had to produce a legal document each time they visited her or could be denied entry. The Aurors couldn't push in her door the way they did Lupin's and the other werewolves. This stuck in Geoffrey's craw a bit, but there was nothing he could do. As a muggle, Eloise could file a complaint against him or anyone in the Department and it would be taken very seriously to keep her from going to her own government for redress.

"What is your name…Miss?" Geoffrey repeated in a more reasonable tone.

"That's better," Eloise snapped as Remus winced.

A growl went up from the armed Aurors, but they knew there was little they could do about Eloise's attitude.

"My name is Eloise Hedgeberry," she said archly.

Geoffrey wrote it down and asked her for her personal information, including her old address in England, place of employment and next of kin.

"You realize Miss Hedgeberry that we cannot extend suitable protection if you continue to reside in muggle Britain. We will have to send Aurors to pick you up the night before the full moon, bring you here and confine you each month in our dungeon, then return you the following day. It would be better if you reside here in the wizarding community, perhaps the werewolf village with your own kind," the wizard said.

"I plan to stay here," Eloise said, "There's nothing for me in Britain any longer."

"Do you have a place to stay? We can provide you a small room for now and a stipend for your basic needs. It's not much but you won't starve," Geoffrey said, frowning slightly. No wizarding werewolves got stipends. A muggle gets cursed and she gets a free handout.

"I am staying with a gentleman named Rubin Fezwig," she replied, "So I won't need a room right now, but I'll take the stipend until I can find a job to support myself."

The Aurors all murmured. They knew about Fezwig and his son. The Ministry had killed the boy after all. Geoffrey wrote down the information about where she was staying, asked if she had a safe place to transform. She was using Fezwig's charmed barn. It was suitable. He picked up a parchment then looked up at her.

"Do you menstruate, Miss Hedgeberry?" he asked her directly and without hesitation.

"Yes I do," she responded evenly.

Geoffrey rustled through a few parchments.

"When would you like to schedule your sterilization?" the wizard asked her.

The hair on the back of Remus' neck bristled and he stifled a growl.

"I'm not scheduling it. I refuse to be sterilized," Eloise replied.

Now the muttering behind her grew and Eloise turned and looked at the wizards for a moment, then turned back to the counter.

"Sterilization is recommended to prevent your having offspring, Miss Hedgeberry. All bit…female werewolves have it done in the wizarding world," he said.

"Have it done or are forced to do it?" she asked him pointedly.

Geoffrey at least had the grace to look uncomfortable.

"Well, it is a requirement for them," he admitted.

"Is it a requirement for me?" Eloise demanded.

"No. You are a muggle. The same laws do not apply to you," he said softly, "But I do suggest you…"

"I don't need your suggestions. I'm not having it done and that's final," she snapped.

Geoffrey looked at Remus.

"For gods sakes, Lupin. Talk some sense into her. We can't have werewolf whelps running around the wizarding world," he said to Remus.

"She's an alpha. I can't tell her what to do…nor would I," Remus said evenly, "She has a right to decide what to do with her own body."

Geoffrey looked at Remus murderously. If Eloise wasn't here and had rights, he would have had the werewolf beaten for his refusal to assist him.

"But…she doesn't understand," Geoffrey said, looking back at Eloise, whose eyes were hard and little black veins were beginning to stand out.

Normally he would have summoned the Aurors to restrain her because of the display…but he couldn't. Eloise would have to actually physically attack someone for them to do anything to her.

"I understand just fine. You can't touch me," she snapped at him, "Now are we finished? I want to get out of here. This place stinks of bigotry and fear."

Geoffrey filed away her paperwork and handed her a stack of parchments. On top was a flyer for the werewolf village. The wizard looked extremely frustrated. He turned to Remus.

"You have any business with us, Lupin?" he asked the werewolf with a scowl.

Remus stood up.

"No, I only brought Miss Hedgeberry here to register," he replied.

"You're about due for another 'visit' Remus. We'll talk then," the Auror said with an unpleasant tone in his voice. Remus didn't say anything as he escorted Eloise out.

When they were walking around the building, Eloise looked at him.

"What did he mean 'time for another visit?'" she asked the quiet wizard.

Remus looked at her, his eyes slightly black-veined. He was angry but trying not to show it.

"They kick in my door whenever they feel like and harass me, even beat me if I'm not properly 'agreeable,'" he said darkly.

"They can't do that. It's against the law," Eloise declared angrily.

"It's against the law in the muggle world, but not here, Eloise. Here it is very different for werewolves. We are never addressed by a title, such as Mr. or Miss. And we don't have the rights you do. They aren't allowed to just visit you at anytime, and when they do, they can't just go through your things. They can only ask how you are and leave," he said, falling silent.

Eloise said nothing more, but was thinking hard. Poor Remus. What a terrible life he led. They apparated back to Fezwig's farm to find the farmer magically placing tall iron posts in the ground surrounding the area of his home, Eloise's barn and the animal barn. The posts had loops on top of them.

"What are you doing, Rubin?" Remus asked, drawing his wand to help the farmer.

"Just putting up some fence posts. I figure I am going to need to enclose the area with silver fencing whenever Eloise goes into heat. You are going to have to come early when it comes on her so you aren't locked out," Rubin said to the werewolf.

Remus looked at Eloise, then said, "I…I…planned to go elsewhere when the next transformation came, Rubin. Eloise lives here now and I don't want to infringe," he said softly.

Eloise looked at him, realizing she had inadvertently taken the place where he came to safely transform.

"No. No Remus, you can still come here. I'd like the company," she said.

Remus stared at her. If she went into heat while he was present…

"I don't know if that's a very good idea, Eloise," he said as Rubin shook his head. The wizard was doing his own cockblocking, "If you go into cycle…"

Eloise arched an eyebrow at him.

"Are you scared I'm going to ravish you, Remus?" she asked him with a half smirk.

Actually, she thought she might like to ravish the shy, kindly wizard. He was cute. Plus it had been quite a while between ravishings for the muggle.

"Ah no…it's not that…it's just…just…" he said lamely

"Just what?" she asked him, still smirking.

Rubin shook his head again, this time in sympathy for Remus. Eloise was a lot of woman in human or werewolf form. Remus didn't stand a chance.

"Fine, I'll stay then," Remus said quickly trying to avoid a deeper conversation.

Rubin chuckled as Eloise cut her eyes toward him and winked.

"Come on, Remus. Help me get up the rest of these posts, then I'll make you and Eloise a couple of steaks," the farmer said.

Remus removed his robes and set about raising posts as Eloise sat down on an overturned barrel and watched the two men work with their wands, a thoughtful look on her face.

Eloise wanted to enlist Remus' aid in killing Fenrir. There were few better ways to get a man onboard for anything than by using sex as a springboard. Her hatred for the werewolf that turned her was so great, she would gladly use her body and Remus' attraction as tools to bring about his demise. If that was what it took…then that's what it took.

Besides, Eloise found Remus' reluctance quite…appealing.

* * *

Hermione spent all of Sunday morning and afternoon in her lab, working with the diabolical Voldie-Pixies, who were being less cooperative than ever. It seemed they had somehow figured out that Hermione coming anywhere near them meant death. She had to stun them before she could get the vicious little pixies out of their cages, then wait for them to revive before she fed them the anti-elixir.

She came up with a restraining device that freed her hands to work with the creatures and made several of them. Basically it was a wooden board with tiny arm, leg and head restraints. She would lock the unconscious pixies in, wait for them to revive, then feed them the potion. It was much easier this way and she could work with more than one at a time.

Hagrid had to come and catch a few of the normal pixies and release them into the wild. They were breeding like mad because of the ample food supply and lack of predators. He wouldn't let Hermione immobilize them because he believed it was "too 'ard on their wee bodies" and shouldered into the enclosure with a butterfly net. He got flamed until his beard was smoking, but caught quite a few of them each go round, dumping the raging pixies into a burlap sack and gathering more until he was satisfied.

The released pixies were completely ungrateful and flamed Hagrid unmercifully when he released them into the forbidden forest, chasing him like a bunch of angry bees until he managed to reach his hut. They buzzed about for a bit, then dispersed for parts unknown as Hagrid set about patching up his burned clothing.

Hermione continued to take notes as she dosed and observed the pixies. The seizures were horrible to witness but the witch steeled herself. The Dark pixies' evil demeanors helped quite a bit. Each looked as if it would like to kill her and probably would if it were possible.

Every creature seemed to die at the same point, when the black blood burst out of their noses and mouths. According to Severus, this was the point the blood transmuted. She began testing the blood and found that indeed there were some normal blood cells as well. Not many, but they were forming, and with each pixie that died, there were more positive changes. She just had to keep altering that ratio of venom to agistani blooms. She was bound to find the right combination if she were careful and patience.

Yet she was beginning to worry a little. It seemed the time was approaching quickly for Voltaire's capture. Albus was on board with her, but Severus…no. She wanted to be able to go to work on the boy immediately so the Potions Master would have no complaints.

She snorted as she dissected another pixie. Severus would find something to complain about anyway. Even if they did cure Voltaire, the wizard wouldn't trust him. He didn't trust Volaria, though she evidenced no untoward tendencies.

Or that was what Hermione thought. Severus actually saw the young witch as an ally now, though his disposition towards her hadn't changed outwardly. Severus Snape always appreciated intelligence, and the conversation he had with the young witch showed him that she was a clear thinker, if nothing else. She also had courage and was willing to go against popular opinion even if the consequences were dire. She was no blind follower. While it didn't dispel all his reservations concerning the young witch, it was still a move closer to acceptance.

But Volaria would still have to prove herself.

Severus would give her the opportunity.

* * *

Volaria was in Hermione's rooms with her nose buried in the newest edition of "Hogwarts: A History." She read about Bellatrix LeStrange and how she was considered the top female Death Eater under Voldemort's reign. Hers was a dubious celebrity to be sure. She killed a lot of people.

Hermione was mentioned in the book several times as well, for helping to thwart Voldemort from getting a Sorcerer's stone, for identifying the creature in the Chamber of Secrets as a basilisk and for receiving the highest marks at Hogwarts in over fifty years.

Cool.

Professor Snape was mentioned, but only as the Potions Master for the school. Volaria thought there should be more about the snarky wizard…much more. Maybe there would be later on. Maybe when he was dead. That happened a lot from what she could tell. Famous people were rarely famous when they were alive. They were only appreciated after the worms had them.

Volaria was all ready to move into Ravenclaw house this evening. She had asked Hermione if she thought anyone would make fun of her hair, being that she had a white patch. Hermione told her idiots were everywhere, and if anyone did…not to pay attention to it. She said she was picked on when she was younger because of her teeth and because she liked to study so much.

"It's a part of life, Volaria. Sometimes people are just being thoughtless, sometimes they are just mean, other times they are jealous. But, everyone goes through things like this. If anyone does pick on you, ignore them," Hermione advised, "It won't always be that way. There were boys that picked on me who wanted to date me later. I got them back then. I wouldn't give them the time of day."

Volaria looked at her.

"Professor Snape seems like he picks on everybody, but he gets the time of day and night from you," she observed as Hermione turned bright red.

"He's a special case," Hermione said, ending the conversation by saying she had to go to the labs.

Volaria shook her head. She was just curious because Hermione and Professor Snape seemed so…different. And Hermione was always working or thinking about working for the most part. She never did…well…girly things. Volaria didn't have much experience doing girly things either…but she did do different hairstyles and liked pretty clothes, though she never had any until she came to Hogwarts. Hermione never did her hair or dressed up as far as the young witch could see.

And Professor Snape…he was so…so stiff and snappy all the time. She couldn't even imagine him being nice. It would just be…wrong. Reasonable was the best the Potions Master could be as far as Volaria was concerned.

And he was reasonable. At least when it came to understanding why she needed his help.

That counted for a lot.

* * *

Hermione was helping Volaria miniaturize her things to take them up to Ravenclaw house when Severus arrived. He was on his way to meet with Bella and attend to Voltaire. Hermione stared at him as he entered, her stomach in knots at the danger he was going to face. He walked up to the witch, studying her face, noting the fear in her eyes.

"Hermione, you look like I'm going to the gallows," he said to her softly, then his eyes hardened as he looked toward Volaria, who was watching them.

She quickly found something very urgent to do in Hermione bedroom. Severus watched the blonde witch skitter off and the bedroom door close behind her, then turned his eyes back on Hermione.

"I will be back, witch," he said to her.

Hermione's eyes glistened.

"I know," she said unconvincingly.

Severus sighed and kissed her on her forehead.

"You worry too much. I will be fine. Bella needs me," he said, "I will return as soon as I can. And definitely tonight."

"You'll let me know when you're back?" Hermione asked him.

"Volaria is moving out tonight, isn't she?" Severus asked her in return.

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding.

Severus gave her a little smirk."You'll know when I return, be certain of that," he said, his eyes glinting at her.

Severus planned to let himself into her rooms and go straight to Hermione's bedroom. He needed to break her bed in again.

Hermione felt a little heat in her belly at the way the wizard looked at her. Severus could still make her feel like melting into a pool of bubbling lust.

"I have to go," the wizard said, planting a kiss on her lips, "Don't bother dressing for bed."

The wizard turned and exited Hermione's rooms. She watched him go, her belly still knotted up.

"Be safe, Severus," she whispered after the door closed.

* * *

Disillusioned and surrounded by a silencing spell, Severus apparated a short distance from the stones, his wand in hand. He removed the silencing spell but remained disillusioned. He walked the short distance to the meeting place, looking up at the sky. The sun was low, almost at the horizon.

Suddenly, Bella walked into view, her eyes narrowed angrily. She wasn't in the best of moods. She was gripping her wand tightly. Time to relieve her of that. But she was looking around sharply.

"Severus, I know you are already here. Come out!" she demanded.

The Potions Master pointed his wand at her chest.

"My wand is pointed at your heart, Bella. Put your wand away," he said still disillusioned.

Bellatrix stamped her foot and angrily put her wand in her pocket. Severus appeared.

"You look a bit…upset, Bella," he purred at her, his wand still pointed.

"Yes I am upset. You have Volaria!" she hissed at him. "You have betrayed me. Albus knows everything."

Severus shook his head.

"I would be in Azkaban if that were true, Bella. I gave Voltaire the elixir and most likely Volaria saw that. When I found out she was from your stronghold, I removed all memory of myself from her mind so she could not reveal my duplicity," the wizard said evenly.

"Why not everything, Severus?" she growled at him.

"There wasn't time, Bella. I was more concerned with protecting myself. No one knows where your stronghold is," Severus said reasonably.

"But now they know I'm alive for certain," Bella snapped back at him.

"That is a small thing, Bella. It means nothing. Some have suspected you didn't die at the battle at all. Besides, Albus isn't sure if Volaria is telling the truth or suffering some delusion. Claiming to be the daughter of Voldemort is quite a stretch," the wizard said.

Bella looked at him. Yes, it really was a stretch. It was common knowledge the wizard wanted no heirs because he never intended to give up his throne and wanted to live forever.

"I have not betrayed you, Bella…and I have the elixir for Voltaire. You have trusted me this far. Continue to do so," Severus said silkily, his black eyes meeting her gray ones.

Bella hesitated, then let out a sigh.

"Put your wand away, Severus. Of course you haven't betrayed us. I am just…just under so much stress. Voltaire has…has changed, is more demanding, insistent, anxious to take his throne. He is very much like his father. Very much," the witch said tiredly as Severus slowly put his wand away.

Bella did look like she had aged a little since he last saw her. How much had the boy changed?

"Let us go," Bella said, slipping her arm into Severus' and disapparating with him.

The witch and arrived in the open arena area where Severus had given Voltaire his first full treatment. The pale wizard looked around. The boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Voltaire?" the wizard asked Bella.

"He doesn't want to meet you here. He is in the Room of Requirement," the witch replied, beginning to walk. Severus followed.

"He does not like to be addressed by his name any longer, Severus. You must address him with the same title and respect you gave his father. 'My Lord.' He has studied pensieves of how Death Eaters acted in his father's presence and has come to expect that. Even I no longer call him Voltaire," Bella said as they turned down a stone corridor, then another. She stopped in front of a tall iron door. It was emblazoned with serpents and skulls, and had two ringed knockers.

"Remember, eyes lowered, Severus," Bella said warningly as she lifted the heavy knocker and let it fall, a loud bang following it.

After a moment, the door swung open slowly.

"Enter," a high pitched voice hissed.

Both Severus and Bella entered the room, eyes lowered. Severus felt a chill at the familiarity of it.

Voltaire sat majestically on a throne of bones on a raised dais in the center of a perfect reproduction of Voldemort's throne room. Circular and barren with stone walls and a number of brightly burning torches which kept the room very warm. Voltaire was cold-blooded now and needed external heat. He was dressed in rich green and silver robes. Slytherin colors. Severus and Bella stopped in front of the throne.

"I have brought Severus to attend you, my Lord," Bella said, her eyes still lowered.

Voltaire's red eyes shifted from Bella to Severus, who was showing him the proper respect he deserved. He nodded with approval.

"Very well. You may both lift your eyes and address me," the young wizard said imperiously.

Severus lifted his head and looked at the boy.

"Thank you my Lord," he said silkily.

"You are welcome…servant," Voltaire replied.

Severus fought back the unpleasant response he had to being addressed as a "servant" once more.

"Have you been well, my Lord?" Severus asked the boy.

"Yesssss. My powers are increasing, but I need to be stronger. My time approaches. I must be ready to take my rightful place. Can you assure me I will be ready?" Voltaire demanded.

Severus shook his head.

"I cannot tell you that, my Lord. Only that if you apply yourself, you will become more than what you are. It all depends on you," Severus replied evenly.

Bella shook her head slightly. Not the right response, Severus.

Voltaire's eyes grew redder and his face snarled up in fury.

"It all depends on me, worm? Then what the fuck do I have you for? Crucio!" the young despot cried, hitting Severus with the Cruciatus curse.

"You will give me what I want, or suffer!" Voltaire hissed as Severus seized up with pain, held up by the curse. Dear gods…it was more horrible than ever.

Voltaire held his wand on him, waiting to hear the wizard scream in agony. Severus was in agony but screaming wasn't his way.

Finally, Voltaire let him go, and Severus fell to the floor, shuddering terribly.

"He didn't scream, Bella," he said to the witch, who shook her head.

"Your father would strip the skin from his body and he would never scream, my Lord. It is just the wizard's way. He has suffered however…but you don't want to ruin him. He still must give you the elixir," she said.

Voltaire looked down on the wizard, who was on his hands and knees now, trying to rise.

"Severus Snape, you will serve me better than you served my father," the boy hissed at him as the wizard slowly rose, careful to keep his face neutral, despite the murder in his heart, "House elves!"

Immediately two house elves with flattened ears appeared in the throne room, bowing low.

"Yes, my Lord?" one of the elves squeaked, eyes on the floor.

"Bring me a vial of pain potion from Jordan's stores and give it to the wizard," he ordered.

"Yes, my Lord," the elves said in unison.

They winked out.

Severus stood before the throne in silence, shuddering, his Occlumency walls lowered soundly as Voltaire looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"My father never trusted you," the boy said, "I will not trust you fully either. As long as you remain useful to me, however…you will live. But you will have a new assignment for me, Severus. You are to work on creating a more powerful elixir…one that doesn't have to be constantly administered. I want to be free of that dependence."

"Yes, my Lord," Severus said through slightly chattering teeth.

The boy was crazy to think he would ever do such a thing, particularly since he said Severus would only live as long as he was useful. He wouldn't be needed if Voltaire had access to such an elixir. The Potions Master hoped the boy would make his move soon, so he could be captured. Then he'd be taken to task for crucioing him. Oh yes.

The elves returned and handed Severus the pain potion. His hand shaking, Severus opened the bottle and drank it down. After a moment or two the worst of the pain subsided. Only time would remove the rest of it.

"Better?" Voltaire asked him.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied, handing the bottle back to the elf, who hurriedly winked out.

Voltaire flicked his wand and a restraining chair appeared, bolted to the floor. He stood up, put his wand in his pocket and majestically walked down the stairs and over to the chair. He sat down and locked the restraints around his ankles, then one wrist.

"Attend me," he ordered the Potions Master, who walked over and locked the other restraint, his face contorted slightly. He would love to beat the shit out of the little monster while restrained…but there was Bella…and the ultimate goal to think about. But he wouldn't forget this. He'd get his day.

He took the bottle of elixir out of his pocket, uncapped it, and held it to Voltaire's lips…his black eyes glinting with hatred as the boy drank it down.

* * *

Hermione was curled up in her bed, nude and covered in a scarlet and gold sheet when Severus walked into her bedroom. Her hair was slung over her face and she breathed easily. The wizard walked to the side of the bed and looked down at Hermione. He shuddered slightly, grimacing.

He was still feeling the effects of Voltaire's curse. The Potions Master hadn't experienced the Cruciatus curse for many years and he didn't throw it off as quickly as he used to. Plus, he was in a foul mood because of the arrogant little bastard. A boot firmly placed in Voltaire's scaly ass would have done wonders for Severus' attitude. But he had to bide his time.

Anyway, he doubted he would be able to perform to his own satisfaction tonight, and some of his residual anger at Voltaire and Bella might boil over while he was with Hermione. He didn't mind putting it to the witch if it were the result of passion, lust or being a bit pissed off at her for some reason…but he didn't want misplaced aggression to be his driving force. Hermione was not a punching bag for his frustrations, though the witch probably wouldn't mind helping him work off some anger.

There were some delicious benefits for being so selfless…for a masochist that is.

He leaned over the witch, moving her hair out of the way.

"Hermione. Hermione, I've returned," he said softly.

Hermione groaned, stretched, then opened her eyes slowly, looking up at him. Severus could see the joy in them as she became lucid. He felt a rush of affection for the witch. Her love was a balm to him, something he could see and feel.

"Severus," she said sleepily, smiling like a child.

"Yes, Severus," he said silkily, his eyes drifting over the curves beneath the sheets.

He often thought Hermione purposely covered her bed in Gryffindor colors when she knew he was going to spend the night. He always threw them off the bed and claimed it in the name of Slytherin House before ravishing her soundly. His mouth quirked a bit at the thought of it.

Hermione's brow furrowed. Usually Severus woke her up by getting naked and spooning around her body, kissing her awake. He was fully dressed.

"Why aren't you in bed?" she asked him.

Severus didn't want to tell Hermione he'd be crucio'd by that little bastard. She'd be extremely upset.

"I am rather tired, Hermione. I thought I would sleep in my own room tonight," Severus said rather evasively.

Unfortunately, there was a note in his voice that Hermione recognized. As good a liar as Severus was, intimacy with the witch had made her more familiar with his inflections than anyone…even Albus. Hermione knew something was up. She sat up in the bed, the sheet dropping and her full breasts in view. The Potions Master's eyes dropped to them for a moment, then he forced himself to look her in her eyes.

"Too tired?" Hermione said to him suspiciously, "Severus, you have never been too tired for sex. Ever. That's my excuse, not yours."

"Ah, but it is possible, isn't it?" he replied, trying to keep from looking at her body.

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"I suppose it is, but what happened to make you so tired?" she asked him directly, studying his pale face before her eyes swept over his body, looking for torn robes, blood or hidden injuries.

Damn it. He should have just gone straight to bed.

"It was just a trying meeting. Voltaire has become quite the tyrant in a month. Dealing with him was…exhausting," Severus replied, trying not to lie to Hermione…just hide the truth.

Hermione was about to reply when Severus involuntarily shuddered, cursing to himself as he grimaced helplessly. Hermione's eyes widened in horror as she recognized that terrible shiver.

"You've been crucio'd!" she cried, jumping out of the bed completely naked and not caring in her concern for the wizard, "Oh Severus!"

"I'm fine," he groused as Hermione's small fingers immediately started unbuttoning his robes.

"You certainly are not fine," she said angrily, "Imagine, trying to hide this from me. I swear Severus…"

The wizard stood there quietly as the angry little witch removed his clothing, first taking off his robes, then his shirt, then tugging at his trousers and pulling them down around his thighs.

"Sit down on the bed," Hermione ordered. She wasn't in the mood to be disobeyed.

Severus did as she asked, his black eyes resting on her as she knelt and removed his boots and socks, then pulled off his trousers, leaving him in his black silk boxers. The wizard shuddered again and Hermione stood up, her eyes glistening in sympathy.

"You are staying here tonight," she said imperiously, "Now lie down in the bed. I'll be right back."

Hermione watched Severus lie down on his back obediently, her hands on her hips and scowling. She then walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out a robe. She put it on and tied the sash around her waist, closing it. Then she stepped into her bedroom slippers, walked over to the nightstand and picked up her wand. Hermione gave Severus a warning look before she left the bedroom. He was to stay put.

Severus lay on his back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Suddenly he rolled out of the bed and pulled the scarlet and gold sheet off it, balling it up and throwing it in the corner. There was a plain white sheet beneath it. He climbed back into the bed and waited for Hermione to return.

* * *

"Imagine, trying to hide something like that from me," Hermione seethed as she unlocked the Potions office and stalked through, heading for Severus' stores, "That man is not to be trusted…at all!"

She walked over to Severus' potions store and furiously broke the wards on it. A loud alarm sounded but she silenced it with a flick of her wand.

Severus lifted his head as he heard his alarm go off. Hermione was in his stores. The wizard sighed. He really had to find a reasonable ward that the witch couldn't crack. Oh there were stronger ones she could probably never get through…but they took so damn long to apply and remove, Severus couldn't use them. Bartholomew had to have access to the stores as well because of classes. Severus scowled.

Hermione was gone about forty-five minutes. Severus was about to go looking for her when the witch returned, carrying a tray and setting it down on the night stand. Severus sat up and looked on the tray.

There was a teapot and a very strange looking cup of some kind. It was made of ceramic, but had two handles and a cover with a raised kind of spout on top, small holes in the tip of it. Severus watched as Hermione removed the top and poured some tea into it. It was a reddish color. She must have been brewing it in his lab.

Severus shifted closer and sniffed.

His large, sensitive nose first picked up a mild honey flowery aroma, then a mint-like undertone. The Potions Master continued to sniff. Hmmm. Chamomile flowers, valerian root, chicory root, Hawthorne berries, peppermint, and…strawberry leaves. Then his eyes narrowed as Hermione offered the strange cup to him.

"Hermione…is that…catnip I detect?" he asked her as he took the strange cup.

"Just drink it, Severus," she snapped at him, "Catnip is used as a remedy in the treatment of tension and anxiety. It will help relax you as will everything else in there."

The wizard looked up at her. He only kept catnip in his stores for Filch's ancient cat, Miss Norris. He never even considered it as a useful herb for the treatment of humans. Hermione, the walking encyclopedia had struck again.

Now Severus studied the cup.

"What is this?" he asked the witch, turning it back and forth in his pale hands.

Hermione sighed.

"I made that so you wouldn't spill your tea if you are hit with another tremor. It's called a 'sippy cup.'"

Severus scowled.

"A sippy cup? That sounds like something for infants," he said, frowning.

"Actually it is. Since you were acting like a child trying to hide you were crucio'd from me, it's appropriate. Now drink up!" Hermione said.

Severus scowled at Hermione, but slowly sipped the tea from the sippy cup. He felt ridiculous…but another tremor hit him and if he had used a regular tea cup, hot tea would have spilled all over him. He finished the tea and Hermione gave him another cup, then another until it all was gone. He felt a bit refreshed. There must have been a bit of restorative elixir in the tea as well. It was odorless and tasteless, but he definitely felt the effects. Hermione took the cup away from him.

"Lie down," she said, the anger gone from her voice now, "On your stomach."

Severus looked at her in askance, then did as she asked. He watched as she took a jar of salve out of her pocket. Hermione opened it and climbed into the bed, straddling his buttocks gently. He felt himself harden a bit.

Hermione rubbed the salve between her hands and began to smooth it over the wizard's neck and shoulders, massaging it into his skin and muscles, her hands firm but tender as she applied the cream. Severus felt a bit of heat, then his muscles relaxed and he groaned appreciatively. Relaxation made the curse's residual effects ease somewhat…but it was difficult for someone hit with that terrible pain to relax because of the shock to the body. Hermione knew what she was doing as she moved to his back and sides, working slowly and carefully, not missing any part of him.

Severus felt her climb down the bed, then she removed his boxers, the cool air making him clench his pale buttocks for a moment, Hermione's eyes appreciative before she climbed back on him and began to massage the salve into his muscular flanks. Severus thought she took a bit of extra time on this but didn't say anything. He had a full erection now. The wizard shuddered again, but it was not nearly as painful this time.

Hermione worked on his thighs, calves, ankles and feet, Severus jerking slightly as her fingers slipped between his toes. It tickled. He felt her move off him.

"Turn over," Hermione said, her voice sounding a bit husky.

The witch was completely turned on by massaging the wizard's body, but was trying to push her arousal down. She was still in her robe, naked underneath. Severus obliged her, his swollen organ almost standing straight up. The wizard's eyes glinted at Hermione as she stared at his ready tool.

"You're not going to be able to relax that with salve," he purred at her.

Then he shuddered again, his member swaying and bouncing as his body quaked.

Hermione sat down on the side of the bed. Severus was injured and she didn't trust herself to straddle his body when his erection was just…standing there, ready for action. The Potions Master's dark eyes rested on her as she massaged the salve into his neck, shoulders and arms.

"You're hot for me, aren't you?" he asked her silkily.

Hermione focused on his chest, not looking at him.

"That doesn't matter, Severus…you've been crucio'd. Your body has to rest and recover. Anything strenuous will prolong the effects," she said thickly, "Thrusting and pumping is definitely strenuous."

Damn, why had she said that? Hermione fought back a hiss as she felt a strong pulse of desire. And she was moving lower on his body now, rubbing the salve over the ridges of his pale abdomen, his tool in the corner of her vision…the thick pale shaft swollen, veins pulsing, the purpled head leaking…

Dear gods.

Hermione drew in a deep breath and moved lower on the bed, working on his pelvis now, her small hands working around his shaft and scrotum, not touching them. His organ jerked several times as she kneaded the surrounding flesh. Severus groaned.

"This is torture," he breathed as Hermione moved down to his thighs, her hands slipping between them, grazing his balls accidentally, "I'm so hard I hurt, Hermione."

Hermione blinked several times, saying nothing as she moved down his legs and away from temptation. She couldn't shag Severus…if she did, he'd suffer for it later and she'd feel horrible about it. But she was completely soaked between her thighs. She knew the wizard had to smell her.

Finally, Hermione finished with a sigh. She made it through. She stood up and put the top back on the salve, setting it on the nightstand. She looked down at Severus' long, lean body and his still stoic erection, the wizard looking at her lazily, his eyes half-lidded, a small smirk on his face.

He knew she wanted him. Hell, it would be worth the extra pain.

"Severus, you should put your boxers back on," Hermione said in a strangled voice.

"No, I think the air is good for me," he said.

Suddenly, Hermione noticed the lack of sheets on her bed. She looked over into the corner. Yes, there they were. Severus had thrown them off as usual because they were Gryffindor colors. He wouldn't sleep under them.

"You'll catch a chill. I'm going to get another sheet," she said, walking into the bathroom and going into the linen closet.

Hermione took out a rather heavy white sheet and carried it into the bedroom. She shook it out then tossed it over the bed…and Severus. The sheet settled on his body, tented at his loins. It looked like a tall mountain in the middle of a flat plain.

Severus chuckled.

"If your approach was of the 'out of sight, out of mind' persuasion, Hermione, I'm afraid you've failed miserably," the wizard said, as Hermione climbed over him, careful not to hit his erection and slid under the covers next to him, still in her robe.

Severus lifted the covers and looked at her.

"Surely you don't intend to sleep in your robe, Hermione?" he asked her.

Hermione realized how silly it was and under the covers, undid her sash and slipped out of it, dropping it over the side of the bed, pulling the sheet up under her chin and lying there stiffly, not looking at Severus.

The wizard growled.

"All of this purposeful avoidance of my erection is making me react as if I've drank a lust potion, witch. You are the most appealing to me when you try to act as if I don't arouse you. It makes me want to prove I do," the wizard said silkily, turning towards her, the tent now pointing in her direction.

"It doesn't matter what you want to prove, Severus…you can't do it. I'll feel terribly guilty if you have to go through even more pain because of me. Let's just go to sleep," she said, her voice sounding pained.

Hermione did want the wizard, badly. The idea she couldn't have him was working on her as well.

The couple lay there in silence for several minutes…neither of them feeling the least bit tired now. Hermione felt Severus shift…then a motion beside her. She turned her head to see the tent enlarged and moving up and down slowing as Severus lay with his eyes closed, a slight grimace on his face…and not from the curse either.

"Severus, what are you doing?" Hermione asked him although it was easy to see.

"Wanking off," he said with a groan, "I need relief Hermione."

He turned his head to face her now, his black eyes snapping open, full of need. Suddenly he threw the covers off of his body so Hermione could see his pale fist grasping his tool, the foreskin moving back and forth as he caressed it.

"Watch me," he breathed.

Hermione let out a breath, mesmerized as Severus fisted himself slowly, his nostrils flared as he watched her watch him masturbate. The witch licked her lips, making them moist, the tip of her tongue showing slightly. He growled again.

The tip was leaking and the wizard pulled back his foreskin and spread it with his thumb, making his organ glisten. Hermione's eyes seemed to glow as she watched him work that thick, strong tool.

"Oh Severus," she breathed helplessly.

"Help me," he whispered to her, "Wrap your hand over mine, Hermione."

Hermione moved downward in the bed, the sheet slipping off of her so Severus could see her torso, his eyes glittering as he felt her warm hand close over his and move in unison.

"Yes," he purred, his eyes on the witch, who was watching their mutual motion with large, shining eyes. "Mmmm, yes Hermione. Help me."

Hermione swallowed as Severus worked his hand faster, her arm moving up and down quicker, a fire burning between her thighs. She needed relief as well and slid her hand between her legs unabashedly, beginning to massage herself, her eyes drooping as her breathing increased. Severus bit his lip at the expression on her face and if it wasn't for the fact that he knew Hermione would feel horribly guilty in the morning, he would have mounted her and taken her.

Instead, he took his hand away, and Hermione kept going, gasping as his hardness slid back and forth over her palm, the soft, silken skin giving way to the hot iron beneath. She sped up her own twiddling, letting out a small cry as she orgasmed, shuddering, Severus groaning and moaning as she gripped him harder, working her hand frantically.

"Fuck…yesssss…yesssss," Severus hissed at her, his dark eyes hungry.

Suddenly Hermione rose to her knees and practically fell on his erection, her hot mouth surrounding him and sucking hard.

"Shit!" Severus gasped in surprise, gripping the witch's head and letting out a growl of pleasure as Hermione sucked like a vacuum, her head bobbing, sliding him to the back of her throat, gagging a bit but not slowing, swallowing his shaft, licking the leaking head, moaning around his organ, sending vibrations from tip to base, before licking it all over and sucking his sensitive balls.

Severus didn't know what the fuck just happened here, but he was glad for it. This was the best blow job Hermione had given him in weeks. He started to thrust and Hermione pulled back from him.

"Don't!" she gasped, "Let me do it. The curse," she hissed, her mouth glistening.

The wizard stilled then groaned as Hermione wrapped her mouth around him again, using her hand to stimulate the rest of his shaft, her wet mouth making slurping noises that drove the wizard to the edge quickly. He felt his balls tighten suddenly and almost painfully.

"Oh…oh…damn! Hermione!" Severus cried out, forcing her mouth down on him, plunging deeper and gagging her as he exploded, shooting his seed into her throat as the witch tried her best to relax her mouth. She managed to do it. Severus was too far gone to release her as pleasure surged through him. He felt Hermione swallowing and sighed as his body went limp, totally relaxed now as he panted, running his hand down the witch's moist back appreciatively as she finished drinking him down, giving him a few more bobs as he slowly deflated…sated.

"You are amazing," the wizard breathed as she lifted her head and looked at him, a naughty smile tugging at her lips.

"And you are irresistible," she replied, licking her lips sexily.

Severus drew Hermione up the bed and kissed her deeply, tasting himself as he did so before pulling her tight against him so her head rested against his shoulder. He sighed, the unpleasantness of his experience with Voltaire temporarily wiped away by the witch in his arms.

They hadn't had sex…but damn…it was a lovely night anyway.

* * *

Severus met with Albus the next day, bringing the wizard a pensieve instead of a report.

"What's this, Severus?" the Headmaster asked the wizard as he stepped through the floo and walked over to his desk, placing the bowl of silver memories upon it.

"This…" Severus said, his face slightly contorted, "Is the wizard you want to save."

Albus viewed the pensieve. When he lifted his head, he was slightly pale. The old wizard stared at Severus, sympathy in his blue eyes.

"Remind you of anyone we knew?" the Potions Master asked as he sat in the armchair in front of Albus' desk with his arms crossed.

Albus shook his head.

"He is very much like Voldemort," the wizard admitted, his blue eyes sad.

"And Voldemort would rather die than change his ambitions," Severus said, his dark eyes resting on Albus, "After seeing this pensieve Headmaster, do you really believe this…this mini-tyrant can be saved?"

Albus tapped his fingertips together thoughtfully.

"Clearly Severus, he is emulating his father's actions because he viewed them. He is 'acting out,'" Albus replied.

Severus' eyebrows rose in disbelief.

"Acting out? Albus, you really consider his casting the Cruciatus curse on me 'acting out?'" Severus said with a growl, "That was a deliberate act. Most likely premeditated to 'keep me in my place.' The boy is a danger Albus. Reconsider his rehabilitation and just take him out."

"I will not arbitrarily kill an innocent, Severus," the Headmaster said.

"Innocent? There is nothing innocent about the boy, Albus. According to Volaria, Voltaire has practiced the killing curse on actual wizards and witches specifically captured by Bella for that purpose. He has murdered purposely, Albus, and with deadly intent. He is no innocent," Severus declared.

"All he's done has been done under the tutelage of Bellatrix, Severus. He is not of age yet so not responsible. There is nothing to indicate the boy would have acted in such a manner if not for the way he was raised. He could be re-educated," Albus said stubbornly.

"Age means nothing when one contains such hatred, Albus," Severus said, "Such malice for all things living. I'm warning you, that boy should be put down."

Albus frowned at Severus.

"As I told you before, Severus, I am taking your suggestion under advisement, but I have the last say in this matter. This is the last discussion we will have about this situation until Voltaire is actually under my protection. Am I understood, Severus?" Albus said, his eyes dark now.

Severus stared at Albus. Under his protection? Shit…that said it all. Albus had no intentions on dispatching the boy…he was going to pursue this mad idea of rehabilitation…he and Hermione both to the bitter end. Very well then. If they were allied…then he would be too. This meeting cemented his resolve.

"Yes Headmaster. I understand quite well sir. I will say nothing more about this matter, you can be assured," the wizard said, rising.

Albus looked a bit reticent as he watched Severus collect the pensieve. He could feel the wizard's anger under his cool façade.

"Severus, my boy…I'm" he began.

Severus cut him off sharply.

"Headmaster…no more words are needed. You are my employer and my leader. If you believe I am wrong, then that is your prerogative. We all must do what we feel is right. You owe me no explanations or apologies, Albus. None at all," the Potions Master said to the wizard, his eyes glittering, "Good day, sir."

And with that Severus cast a handful of powder then exited through the floo, robes billowing.

* * *

Volaria's first night in Ravenclaw was wonderful as far as the witch was concerned. She had never been around others close to her own age. Hermione escorted her to Ravenclaw Tower which was on the west side of the castle. A delighted Professor Flitwick met them.

"Ah, Miss Ruddle, welcome to Ravenclaw House," the diminutive wizard said, bouncing on his toes.

Volaria looked about. She didn't see anything other than the corridor they were standing in, and a number of moving portraits, the inhabitants all craning their necks to get a good look at her.

Hermione gave the witch a hug.

"Good luck, Volaria. Study hard," she said, kissing the witch on the cheek and waving goodbye as she made her way back down the corridor to the shifting stairs. Professor Flitwick led her over to a large painting of a knight on a horse, holding a sword in one gauntleted hand and a shield with an azure and bronze standard in the other.

"Charming Flickety Flicks," Professor Flitwick said to the painting.

The horse reared and the knight said in a deep voice, "You may pass," the portrait swinging forward, revealing an entrance to a corridor.

"That is the password you need to enter Ravenclaw House, Miss Ruddle," Professor Flitwick said as he entered, Volaria following a bit nervously. Suddenly Volaria spoke to Professor Flitwick.

"Um, excuse me sir. I have a question about the Ravenclaw representative animal. Why is it a golden eagle rather than a raven? The name of the house is Ravenclaw after all."

Professor Flitwick smiled at her.

"Ah my dear…a simple answer really. The house founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, had the animagus form of a golden eagle with black claws. Hence the name, Ravenclaw," he said.

Volaria nodded. That made sense.

They entered the Ravenclaw common room. It was done in azure and bronze, the house colors and had an enormous fireplace, several comfy chairs and sofas also in house colors, three chessboard tables and a number of long tables with chairs bordering the room, presumably for study. The large bevel windows were curtained with rich azure and bronze brocade draperies. Two of the walls were made up of bookshelves filled with all manner of books covering a number of difficult topics. There were two stairwells on opposite sides of the room, leading to the dorms. The room was quite comfortable.

Volaria didn't get much of a chance to drink the room in, due to the fact that there were students filling it, all looking at her and Professor Flitwick attentively, their eyes taking their new housemate in. Professor Flitwick had already given them a short history, telling them that Volaria started Hogwarts late due to being in an orphanage, but was very bright.

Ravenclaws were naturally tactful, and the witch wouldn't have to worry about anyone pressing her for personal details about her life she didn't want to share, although they would be willing to listen. Of all the houses at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw was the one best suited for a witch who wished to keep a secret. Slytherin house was secretive, but students wanted to know the connections of others and judged them accordingly by them. Someone who wasn't connected really wasn't worth associating with as far as other Slytherins were concerned. Volaria would have been an outcast unless someone found out she could do wandless magic. She had no intention on letting that be known.

"Good evening, Ravenclaws," Professor Flitwick said jovially, looking at his students with pride.

"Good evening, Professor," the students all replied in unison.

The Professor indicated Volaria.

"This is Miss Volaria Ruddle, the new student I told you about. Let us give her a Ravenclaw welcome!"

To Volaria's surprise, the students all applauded, smiling at her. It really did make her feel welcome. Not only were Ravenclaws tactful, they were thoughtful as well. They knew she had to feel apprehensive about attending Hogwarts and living with other students and all were willing to be kind and friendly to the witch until she got her bearings. Then it was back to the main focus…learning.

There was some curiosity as to how smart Volaria really was however…there was just a bit of competitiveness in Ravenclaw…on an intellectual level. It had been quite a blow to that house that it was a Gryffindor student who received the highest marks in fifty years, though Professor Flitwick took it in stride. He knew Hermione was always exceptional…and it was her courage and loyalty that made her a Gryffindor. If the Sorting Hat had only recognized her intelligence…she would have been place in Ravenclaw. But Hermione had been more than a sponge-brain.

Professor Flitwick then had each student introduce his or herself by name and year. Volaria's mind whirled. She felt she'd never remember any of their names. There were just too many. One girl with brown hair and beautiful gray eyes seemed to stand out however.

"Hi Volaria. My name is Julia Bonepart, and I'm a third year, like you. We'll be sharing quarters," she said with a pretty smile.

"Hi Julia," Volaria said, feeling suddenly shy.

Some of the Ravenclaw boys introduced themselves with waggling eyebrows that made Volaria blush, though she really didn't know why, as the other girls scowled at the offending young males. Ravenclaw boys were intelligent, but they were still boys…and Volaria was very pretty as far as they were concerned. No time like the present to make a good first impression. One young wizard with black hair and hazel eyes stood up and introduced himself.

"My name is Brendan Hornsby. I'm a fifth year, and if you need help getting around the castle, Miss Ruddle…I will be glad to be your escort," he said with a little courtly bow that made all the girls groan and tell him to sit down as the boys laughed at his cheek.

Volaria blushed again, her head turning completely crimson as she shyly looked at the young wizard, who winked at her.

"Thank you, Mr. Hornsby," she said softly as wolf whistles went up.

"Now, now…remember yourselves," Professor Flitwick chided, though his eyes twinkled.

Volaria would find Ravenclaw a good house. A very good house.

Volaria spent the next couple of days being tested by her teachers to find out exactly where she was in the curriculum, then doing extra assignments to catch up where necessary, plus the work currently being studied.

Other witches may have found this daunting, but Volaria was completely psyched about having her work looked over and evaluated by knowledgeable teachers. She never had anyone to go over her work and tell her where she was making errors or if she were on point and she absolutely loved her classes. She would return to the Ravenclaw common room, take a seat at a table and work until it was time to go to supper…Julia having to coax her into leaving her books, then returning to work up until it was time to go to bed. It was as if she saw nothing but the work she had to do. It was her greatest joy.

The first two days both Julie and Brendan escorted her to classes, both Ravenclaws glaring at each other when Volaria wasn't looking. Julia felt as her roommate, Volaria was her responsibility. Brendan felt since he was a male, he was better suited as an escort. Volaria let them both off the hook her third day of classes. Brendan wasn't pleased. He had hoped to make it an ongoing thing…perhaps even get a grateful peck from the witch. But it didn't happen.

That Friday after potions class, Professor Snape met her at the door.

"Come to my office Saturday morning at ten o'clock sharp, Miss Ruddle. Don't tell anyone where you're going and don't be late," the wizard said to her, then turned and billowed away toward Slytherin house. She blinked after him, not knowing how to feel about this. She hadn't expected him to act so soon.

But she would be there…ready to learn.

* * *

Ten o'clock Saturday morning found Volaria outside the Potions office. A few Slytherins passed by looking at her a bit curiously but continued on. She waited for them to get a ways up the corridor, then knocked. Severus opened the door.

"Come in, Miss Ruddle," he said, holding the door wider. The young witch entered. Severus looked her over…she was dressed like a proper Ravenclaw and immaculately so, her tie straight, robes neatly buttoned and hair well brushed.

He arched an eyebrow at the witch. She looked apprehensive. Good.

"I need you to transform into your animagus form and cling to my robes much as you did when you escaped Bella's stronghold, Miss Ruddle. That way no one will see you accompany me to the place we need to go," the wizard said, picking up the cage of nifflers on his desk.

"Yes sir," Volaria replied, then changed immediately, fluttering to the Potions Master's dark robes and clinging to his shoulder.

Severus exited his office, warding it back and heading for the Room of Requirement.

He had only made it a few steps up the hall when a voice he loved but didn't want to particularly hear at this moment hailed him.

"Severus? Where are you going with nifflers?" Hermione said, standing outside her door with a puzzled look on her face. Severus turned.

"I have an experiment to do," he said silkily, "It isn't Hogwarts related so I am utilizing the Room of Requirement to do my research."

"Oh," Hermione said curiously, dying to know what he was working on, "What is it?"

"I'd rather not say. I'm…superstitious," the wizard replied with a smirk.

Hermione frowned. It was common knowledge that Potions Masters were very secretive about their projects to keep their ideas from being stolen. Well, she wasn't going to steal any ideas.

"If you don't want to tell me, just say so," Hermione said huffily.

Severus smirked.

"I don't want to tell you," the wizard said.

Hermione let out a little cry of indignation and stormed off to her labs. Fuck him then.

Severus grinned after her. What a little spitfire. He'd make it up to her later.

He continued up the corridor, appearing in the main hall and startling students who rarely saw him on the weekends. He scowled at each and every one, the students blanching and hurrying off as he mounted the stairs heading for the floor the ROR occupied most of the time. Hopefully it would be in the proper place.

He walked down the corridor. Yes, the plain wooden door was there. He entered then said, "Hogwarts staff. Professor Snape. Total Ward."

The Room of Requirement locked down. No one, not even Albus would be entering.

"Volaria, resume your human form," the wizard said.

The mosquito fluttered off his shoulder and returned to human form.

"You brought your wand?" the wizard asked, setting the cage of nifflers on a table that materialized out of nowhere.

"Yes sir," she replied nervously.

"Let me see it," Severus said, holding out his pale hand.

Volaria retrieved her wand from her robes pocket and handed it to the Potions Master, who studied the fine craftsmanship. He was impressed.

"What kind of core does it have?" he asked her, stroking the wand's polished length.

"Double phoenix feather," Volaria responded.

Severus stopped stroking the wand, his eyes wide as he looked at the witch.

"Double?" he asked in disbelief.

Volaria nodded.

"Mr. Ollivander said it was a wand meant to do great things," she said.

Severus studied the witch.

"Perhaps it is," he agreed, thinking of Voltaire.

* * *

After Severus made his arrangement with Volaria, he and Draco once again attended the Death Eater competition. It was just as brutal and blood-drenched as that of the week before. Elizabeth and Fenrir did not face off as they'd hope, though each won their competition, Elizabeth's right arm hanging uselessly and Fenrir losing quite a bit of facial hair from a well cast fire stream spell that enveloped his hairy head in flames. There was also an elimination round that required another wizard to fight twice because of the odd number of competitors. The second time wasn't a charm and he died a shriveled husk when his challenger cast a spell that took all moisture from his body.

Now six challengers remained and they would face off next weekend, but that left the issue of three survivors, rather than two. Rosier decided that rather than have two of them fight to the death, there would be two runner-ups instead of one. The jeweler secretly hoped that either Fenrir or Elizabeth would fall before the final three were chosen. If the witch and wizard were to face off as the final pair, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't break the rules and try to kill each other. Well, if either of them did overcome the other, there was always the third runner-up to replace the one vanquished.

The competition didn't last as long this time and both Draco and Severus left at a fairly early hour, Draco returning to his manor and the Potions Master apparating back to Hogwarts. Bellatrix had attended this event as well, studying the winners carefully. Elizabeth was still in the running…the bitch.

If she were one of the last ones standing, she'd be the first to go. Bella would make sure of it.

* * *

Four days later, Draco sat in his parlor, listening to Malina's recordings. He had gone down to the studio and had reproductions made of every piece and cover Malina worked on. Her beautiful voice soothed and comforted him. It was a part of the witch he could keep and treasure forever.

He was getting used to being without her…to not collecting her. Malina didn't sleep with him every night, so her absence was bearable if he took it one night at a time, instead of collectively, instead of seeing her absence as something…forever. Draco could almost imagine the witch at her flat, writing, spending valuable alone time with herself, time she needed to feel whole.

It was a way to deal with missing her. Gods, how he missed her.

A house elf winked in, concern on its face.

"Pardons me, Master," the elf said, bowing low.

"Yes, Leafear?" Draco said, still focusing on Malina's dulcet tones.

"What would you likes for dinner, sir?" the creature asked.

"Fish and chips," he responded.

The house elf looked hesitant, then gathered his courage.

"Master…all you has eaten for the past week is fishes and chips, sir. You needs vegetables. Roughage. Is no good you eats this way, sir," Leafear said with flattened ears.

Malina loved fish and chips. The greasier, the better.

"I want what I want Leafear. You aren't a dietician. You are my servant. Bring me what I want," the wizard said, not looking at the elf, though his inflection full of meaning. He was displeased.

"Yes, Master," Leafear replied, looking contrite as he bowed and winked out.

"_Where you are, there is love,"_ Malina's voice sang, "_And there I am."_

Draco stared into the flames of the fireplace…remembering.

* * *

Severus was in his study when the wall rose up and Hermione practically burst through the opening.

"I've done it!" she cried, running into his study, her face ecstatic, "I've created the anti-elixir!"

The wizard was sitting at his desk, working on the end of year exam. He put his pen down, his black eyes cool.

"Congratulations," he said as the witch bounced about excitedly.

"It was the last pixie that finally responded. The three before took hours to die, but this one…this one survived, Severus. His color is good and he appears hale and hearty…although…." she said hesitatingly.

"Although what?" the Potions Master inquired.

"When I released him back into the enclosure, he began to bully the other pixies. He killed four before I recaptured him," she admitted.

Severus looked at her.

"The pixie had a taste of power, Hermione. Although you removed that power…the lust to lead, to control…to rule was still there. You didn't change its inclination," he said, his dark eyes resting on the witch.

Hermione's eyes darkened.

"What are you trying to say, Severus?" she asked, her nostrils flared.

She had just had an amazing breakthrough and in her mind, the wizard was trying to ruin it. No, not in her mind…she was just making excuses. He was being straight-forward. But a pixie wasn't a human being. There was nothing to prove that the basic responses of a pixie which was an instinctual creature would be repeated in a human being with the capacity to think and reason.

"I am saying removing the power doesn't necessarily mean you've removed the urge for dominance," the Potions Master said quietly. "Do you think you can train the pixies that are changed back to fit into their community?"

Hermione frowned.

"No. They're pixies. They don't have the capacity to learn like humans. But…Severus, at least they are restored. I have to do a few more tests, but I am certain I have the physical cure for Voltaire," she said excitedly, "I just have to adjust the dosage ratio and he can be changed back to a normal wizard."

"As I said before, Hermione, congratulations," Severus repeated.

Voltaire would never be "normal" as far as the Potions Master was concerned.

Hermione looked at the wizard for a moment. She knew Severus wasn't happy about this. He didn't want Voltaire saved…he wanted him killed. Well, the young wizard wasn't going to be slaughtered arbitrarily on her watch.

"Thank you," she said coolly.

She had at least hoped the wizard would come to the lab to see her miracle. But the Potions Master didn't move. He went back to working on the exam.

Hermione left his study, a bit subdued. The moment the wall slid down, Severus looked up, his eyes glinting. No, he didn't consider her success a good thing and found for the first time in his life, he wished Hermione had failed.

* * *

Albus, however was delighted and watched with great interest as Hermione fed the snarling little pixie the anti-elixir. The creature stiffened in its restraints, then began to shudder and froth at the mouth terribly.

"Is that supposed to happen?" the Headmaster asked.

Hermione nodded.

"It gets worse before it gets better," she replied just as black blood burst out of the creature's nose and mouth, pouring down its chin, on to its torso and down its legs. Albus paled. It was an awful amount of blood for a small creature to lose. The pixie fell still, looking as if it were dead. Suddenly, the purplish color gave way to the familiar blue, the wings lightening as well. The scales covering its body began flaking off and the black nails shortened and changed back to a light blue hue. A few patches of hair appeared on the bald head.

It laid there, its tiny chest rising and falling rapidly. After a few minutes, it opened its eyes. They were no longer crimson but a healthy violet.

"Amazing," Albus smiled.

Then the pixie's eyes fell on them and it snarled, fighting its restraints, chittering and hissing at the witch and wizard, hatred clearly in its eyes.

"Hm. It doesn't appear to have done anything for the creature's disposition," Albus observed.

"Yes, they do wake up angry, and can't be put back into pixie population, but they are cured, Headmaster. I imagine Voltaire won't be pleased he's lost his power either," the witch said as they studied the angry pixie.

"Yes, but he will get used to it. I imagine he will still have his natural talent," Albus said thoughtfully, "Once he comes to terms with it, we can work on his rehabilitation. Severus believes that next weekend will be the time to take the boy. There will be a competition that will choose the last three opponents. Bella will probably make her move after they are chosen. The Order is prepared, as am I," Albus said, his eyes dark, "Though I can't say I am comfortable with Severus concerning this matter. He is very much against us bringing Voltaire to Hogwarts."

Hermione looked sad.

"I know. Severus has been through so much with Voldemort, he doesn't want anything connected with him let loose on the world again. He doesn't want to take the chance we fail at rehabilitating Voltaire. He thinks it would be better to eliminate him completely," the witch said in a soft voice.

"As a man who has had a second chance, you would think Severus would be more willing for others to benefit as well," Albus mused.

Hermione didn't say anything. Severus was hard because his life had been hard, and still was. He had trust issues because he knew how full of lies the world was…hell, he perpetuated lies everyday posing as a Death Eater. He also had to sit through senseless violence and murder, and to him…Voltaire was the epitome of that violence. It was his father who started it…and he wanted to be greater than his father.

Hermione could understand how Severus felt, but if they could save Voltaire and put him on the right path, he might somehow find a way to make up for the evil his father did. At least he'd have a chance to try.

Everyone deserved a chance.

* * *

"Are you sure, Bella?" Voltaire asked the witch kneeling before his throne.

"Yes, my Lord. You will claim your throne this weekend. There will only be three would-be usurpers of your throne. We will dispatch them and reclaim it. The others will be so shocked at your appearance, most likely they will immediately acquiesce. There are no heroes among the Death Eaters. They are all ruled by fear. And you will give them something to fear, my Lord," Bella said softly.

"Yes. Yes, I will. They will all pay for attempting to put another on the throne. The Cruciatus for each of them!" the boy lisped, "I will apply it myself, one after the other."

"Yes, my Lord," Bella agreed.

"And this will be my new stronghold. I need the arena altered to recreate it, Bella. Have the house elves begin work at once," he ordered.

"Yes, my Lord," Bella said.

"I also need to be able to enter and exit at will, as well as summon my Death Eaters. You will arrange that as well," the boy said.

Bella paled at this. The only way the stronghold could be accessed was through her…or through her death, when the wards would fall. The stronghold was built with this feature so the people she was supposed to be protecting could leave if she died.

Bellatrix wasn't about to tell Voltaire this. The boy had changed so much he might not hesitate to kill her to gain control of the stronghold quickly. She would have to stall him.

"I will have to bring an accomplished Spells Master here to adapt the wards, my Lord. This may take a little time," she said.

Voltaire's red eyes rested on Bella for a moment.

"Crucio!" he cried, pointing his wand at the witch, who screamed in agony.

He released her quickly, however. He only gave her a taste of pain. Bellatrix stood before him shuddering.

"As long as it doesn't take too much time, Aunt Bella," he hissed, fingering his wand.

"Yes…my Lord," she whispered, her voice quaking.

* * *

It was one in the morning. Rubin, Eloise and the livestock were all bedded down and sleeping soundly. It was a dark night and moonless. Out of the darkness a large form moved toward the farm, silently, stealthily, seeking access to the bitch on the premises.

Suddenly Fenrir halted, his yellow eyes narrowing as he saw the fence encircling the house and the barns.

It was made of silver.

The werewolf cursed as he walked the perimeter of the links, searching for a weak spot. He looked up…the fence was high…about twelve feet in height. Then he cursed again. There was a mesh top, also made of silver. Rubin had caged the bitch in. Damn him. He should have killed the farmer long ago.

Fenrir growled low in his throat. He'd keep watch…this fence couldn't be erected all the time. Rubin had to get to his fields after all.

The werewolf would just bide his time and wait for an opening. Even if it meant going out in daylight.

He had turned Eloise. She was his bitch.

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A/N: Tired. Thanks for reading.


	13. Part 13

**A Song for Severus Part 13**

Albus sat at his desk, Fawkes trilling softly behind him as the old wizard considered his options, his blue eyes rather wet. He remembered when he met Tom Riddle in the orphanage years ago…how he saw the signs that the boy's tendencies were dark. But he sincerely believed that with the discipline and direction that Hogwarts could provide, Tom would eventually come around.

But the Headmaster had been wrong. Tom Riddle became Voldemort and the entire wizarding world paid for his error for years before the despot's death. Albus often thought if he had given Tom more one on one time, worked with him instead of leaving him to develop on his own, he could have made a difference in the outcome, altered the path the wizard chose.

Maybe this time, this time he could do it right. Yes, Voltaire was older than his father and already transformed, but that transformation could be reversed. Maybe if taken away from the influence of Bellatrix, the boy would respond to love, real love and kindness. All living things responded to kindness, didn't they?

Like any other human being, the Headmaster had his faults, his weaknesses and his guilt. Like many people, he also blamed himself for things that really were beyond his ability to change or control. The truth of the matter was deep inside, Albus Dumbledore believed he failed Tom Riddle.

He didn't want to fail his son.

* * *

On Friday evening, Severus attended the final Order meeting. It was believed tonight would be the night the Death Eaters would be finally collected, including Bellatrix LeStrange and Voltaire. Yet not one wizard outside of Kingsley and Severus knew of the boy's existence. The Potions Master stood in a corner with his arms folded as Kingsley addressed the Order members in the magically enlarged living room at Grimauld Place. All members were dressed in white robes with a Phoenix embroidered over the heart.

"You all have your track-a-ports?" he asked the wizards, who held them up, "Good. Severus will activate his own when the time arrives for us to strike. Hopefully we will have an element of surprise and not have to take many lives. We want every Death Eater to go to trial if possible. But, if your lives are in danger, then do what you have to in order to save yourselves."

Murmurs of assent moved through the ranks.

Harry looked at Ron as he fingered his track-a-port.

"I'm going to blast every single Death Eater I see into tomorrow," he said, his glasses glinting.

"I'm with you on that," Ron said, his blue eyes narrowed.

Kingsley went over the details of the attack until he was satisfied everyone understood. They did. They had been going over the same details for months. Neville Longbottom was present, a grim look on his face. The tall, dark-haired wizard knew who he was going for…the witch who had crucio'd his parents into insanity. Both were dead now, but for Neville, they had always been beyond his reach. Now, he had one person on his mind.

Bellatrix LeStrange.

The normally even-tempered young wizard didn't plan on taking her prisoner either. As far as Neville was concerned, Bellatrix had lived long enough.

* * *

Voltaire lay on his stomach on a cot as Jordan carefully rubbed a bit of an oil mixture into his dry scaly skin. The healer took his time massaging, Voltaire's eyes closed in pleasure. He itched quite often and Jordan developed a soothing ointment for him.

"Jordan," Voltaire suddenly hissed.

"Yes, my Lord?" the blonde healer replied, working the ointment into the wizard's buttocks.

"Do you have sex with Aunt Bellatrix?" the young despot asked.

Jordan's stomach tightened though he did his best not to show a reaction. He knew Voltaire was shagging the witch now…and it was a relief actually. Bella was into giving pain during sex, and Jordan wasn't into receiving it. He had been her main outlet for years, except for the unfortunate pick-up now and then…wizards brought to her stronghold, never to leave.

"I have, my Lord," the healer admitted.

"Did you like it?" Voltaire asked him as the wizard moved to his thighs.

"Ah…not very much, I'm afraid, Voltaire. She has different tastes than I do," Jordan said carefully.

"Yes. She likes pain," the young wizard agreed, "She likes me to beat her. Have you beaten her?"

"Oh no, my Lord. Never. She…she beats me…or used to. Among other things," he replied with a shudder, "She doesn't come for me now."

Voltaire was surprised by this information.

"She never tries to hurt me. It wouldn't go well for her if she did," Voltaire said, flipping over, his red eyes resting on Jordan. He was a handsome wizard, if a bit thin.

Jordan worked the ointment into Voltaire's face carefully, remembering what a fine looking boy he used to be compared to the monster he was now.

"Do you miss sex?" Voltaire asked the wizard.

Suddenly, Jordan felt very uncomfortable.

"No," he said rather quickly.

Voltaire was silent for a moment.

"My father had sex with women and men. I've had a woman…Aunt Bella, but I've never had a man. Have you?" the young wizard asked him.

Jordan noticed with some alarm that the boy's organ was beginning to writhe.

"Ah, no. I prefer women, my Lord. Only women," he said, his voice quavering a bit.

Voltaire was silent for a moment, then said, "I am curious about what it feels like to shag a man, Jordan."

The healer didn't reply as his hands moved over the wizard's abdomen. The boy's tool writhed and touched the back of his hand. The healer continued rubbing the ointment into Voltaire's skin, his face slightly contorted. Gods…

Jordan sped up, working around the boy's writhing member as fast as he could without being too obvious. Voltaire said nothing else until Jordan finished, then sat up on the cot.

"Jordan," he lisped at him.

"Yes my Lord?" the wizard replied, his whole body tense.

"Hand me my boxers," Voltaire said, his crimson eyes glittering.

Jordan did that as Voltaire hopped off the high cot and took them from the healer, slipping them on. Jordan was never so glad to see anyone get dressed in all his life. He helped the wizard on with his crimson robes, then his socks and crimson boots.

"How do I look?" Voltaire asked, striking what he thought was a commanding pose.

"You look quite masterful, my Lord," Jordan replied looking at the scaly wizard. He blinked as Voltaire flicked his tongue out, tapping his cheek with it.

"Jordan, when I return from claiming my throne, I intend to claim you as well. I need experience with both men and women, and I will not take a Death Eater and not know what I'm doing. He may…talk. So take a colonic," the boy said.

There was nothing Jordan could say but, "Yes my Lord" as his buttocks clenched together reflexively. First her was subjected to Bella and her twisted desires for years, now he was going to have his ass reamed by Voltaire…a boy he had raised as if his own son until eighteen months old. Now it wasn't as if Jordan didn't know what it was like to have that happen. Bella had a number of strap-ons of different sizes…but the act was never one he enjoyed. It was always a violation. But this would be the first time he would be penetrated by another male. The idea of it was enough to make him sick.

Gods…if only Bella brought him ingredients that he could brew a fast-acting poison with. He'd end it all.

Voltaire strode from the healer's room with a smirk.

It was good to be the king.

* * *

Elizabeth swung her right arm a few times. Yes, it felt fine. Tonight was the night the final three would be chosen in the competition. It seemed the gods of revenge weren't with the witch. Again she and Fenrir did not match up for a duel to the death, which meant they would be expected to just overcome each other if they both survived their opponents tonight.

Well, rules were made to be broken.

* * *

In his cave, Fenrir paced restlessly. The finalists would be chosen tonight. That bitch Elizabeth managed to slip by him again. Well, if she was a finalist and he wasn't supposed to kill her…just overcome her, a nice public rape ought to do that just fine. He smiled at the thought of it, all his pointed teeth showing.

Then once he drank the elixir, every fucking human in the ranks would be bitten on the night of the full moon. He would have an army of werewolves. The wizarding world would become quite lively then, the streets flowing with blood as he led a revolution that was a long time coming. Fuck asking for rights…

It was time to take them.

* * *

Bellatrix nervously paced back and forth in her bedroom. Finally after years of patience, her plan to claim Voldemort's throne was coming to fruition. She had no doubt she and Voltaire alone could pull off the coup. Death Eaters were weak sheep and followers. Those with aspirations of greatness had already been killed off, thanks to the competition for the throne. Actually, it made her job easier.

But Bella was feeling some unease at the turn Voltaire had taken since drinking the elixir. He was too much like his father…covetous of power. The witch was determined to see this through to the end, but in her heart she was afraid that Voltaire would turn on her. Maybe she had indulged his darker side too much, but he needed to be merciless and self-directing to be effective…he had to be able to place his needs before those of others if he were to achieve true greatness and succeed where his father failed.

She hoped Voltaire would be grateful and let her rule beside him as they had talked about all his life. She was his mother, turned lover and servant. If he felt anything for anyone, Bella thought it would be for her.

She had no idea just how good a job she'd done on the boy.

* * *

Albus and Hermione both looked at the room they created for Voltaire. It was rather bare, containing only a bed, wardrobe, dresser, mirror a small bookshelf and a bathroom with a shower and sunken tub. There was also a heavy chair bolted to the floor with manacles. Albus reluctantly included this to restrain the young wizard for the first few days. Plus it would be needed when Severus administered the anti-elixir. Hermione developed it, but a Potions Master had to administer it to a human being, according to wizarding law since it was not a registered potion. Voltaire was going to be a secret for a long time, but if anything leaked out, at least they would be covered potion-wise.

"I hate that chair," Hermione said to Albus.

The wizard shook his head.

"I know Hermione, but we must do what we can to protect ourselves and the boy. He will not be happy when delivered here. He will have to be restrained."

Hermione stared at the chair, then looked at Albus.

"I hope we can help him, Headmaster," she said softly, her eyes dark with worry.

Albus patted her shoulder comfortingly.

"As do I, Hermione. As do I," he said, his eyes resting on the restraining chair.

* * *

The arena under Pumbleberry's mansion had to be greatly enlarged to accommodate the crowd of nearly seven hundred Death Eaters who would be in attendance for tonight's events. It was down to the wire and everyone wanted to be present to see just who would be the one to take the elixir.

The six opponents were already on site, each one assigned their own waiting room with a single bench on which to sit. In each room the competitors sat in silence, listening to the noise outside, making their plans and maybe even their peace with whatever dark gods they believed in. Fenrir picked his teeth and Elizabeth flexed her arm a bit more.

Severus sat in the top row again, alongside Draco. When the final three were selected, the stands would be removed and a small ceremony would be held congratulating them, then the three of them would face off in a smaller enclosed arena set in the earth, the goal of the final battle being to injure, not kill, and the one still able to function after the mayhem would be declared the winner.

It would be up to him or her whether to take the elixir immediately or wait until their injuries were healed. Severus was to administer it.

Presently everyone settled in and Rosier stood up in his box seat at the arena's end and placed his wand against his throat.

"Welcome everyone to the final competition. We have three duels to the death to sort out the three most worthy opponents out of six competitors. Then we will have a small intermission and ceremony acknowledging their skill and accomplishment to this point, then a final face-off between the three to find out who is the best and strongest. He or she will be declared the winner and our next Dark Lord!" the wizard said.

The crowd cheered and stamped its feet as Pumbleberry arose, clearing his throat before invoking the Sonorous charm and announcing the first duelists.

"Henry Castleworth and…erm…Unther Greybeard, enter…erm…the arena!" the wizard

"I hate to hear that pervert talk," Draco grumped to Severus, then proceeded to mimic Pumbleberry, "Erm…erm…erm."

"Shh," the Potions Master said to the blonde wizard as the two competitors entered the arena, both pairs of eyes bright and focused.

"BEGIN!" Pumbleberry roared.

* * *

The first duel was more of a brawl than a series of magical attacks, Unther sending a flash of light that momentarily blinded his opponent, then charging, taking Henry down. They wrestled about, tangled in each others' robes, the crowd booing and screaming at them to stop shagging and start throwing spells.

The duel came to a nasty end when the men separated and Unther pointed his wand at Henry's face, muttering something. Suddenly a three foot pointed steel rod shot out of his wand tip driving straight through Henry's eye and out the back of his head, blood clotting in his hair thickly. Henry shuddered horribly, already dead, falling forward and sliding further down the rod until Unther unceremoniously pushed him off, the pointed rod retracting back into his wand as the crowd cheered.

Several house elves came out and cleaned up the mess.

Rosier stood up, applying the Sonorous charm, amplifying his voice.

"I give you Unther Greybeard! Our first runner-up!" he shouted. Again the audience applauded as the wizard smiled and left the arena.

"Nasty," Draco said, shaking his head as Pumbleberry announced the next combatants.

"Elizabeth Yaxley and…erm…Cornelius Cracklesforth!"

Cheers rang out as the opponents entered the ring. Elizabeth was a favorite…the pretty witch was so brutal. Cornelius was tall, bald, narrow-eyed with a pointed black goatee and heavy black eyebrows.

Combatants weren't allowed to use the same spell twice, so no one knew what Elizabeth had up her sleeve this time.

Witch and wizard faced off, Cornelius' eyes watching the witch's feet closely to see if he could tell which direction she intended to dart when she parried his first blow, hoping to at least wing her. He wanted to go for her previously injured arm.

Elizabeth didn't give him anything to observe. She had her wand at the ready and stood still, her blue eyes unwavering.

"BEGIN!" Pumbleberry boomed.

Elizabeth quickly threw up a mirror shield that bounced Cornelius' lava blast back at him, the wizard barely managing to dive out of the way as the hot magma streamed back at him, the crowd roaring approval.

"Speculum Plures!" Elizabeth cried, striking herself with her wand tip.

Suddenly the witch appeared to unfold like a string of paper dolls, surrounding the startled wizard as he scrambled to his feet. Cornelius spun as he looked at more than a dozen Elizabeths encircling him, all wearing predatory smiles, every wand pointed at his person.

"Only one of you can cast a spell!" he shouted at them, still spinning trying to train his wand on the real Elizabeth.

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" a chorus of female voices said back to the wizard, then all of the witches slashed at him

"Sectumsempra!" they cried, Severus leaning forward as the original spell he created was used by the witch…but never with such devastating results.

Cornelius was sliced into bloody ribbons. It looked as if he'd just exploded into strips of robes, flesh, bones and pieces. His remains dropped heavily to the ground as the crowd went wild. Apparently all of her doubles could also cast the spell. An amazing bit of magic. Cornelius hadn't stood a chance.

"Plures Finite," Elizabeth breathed. All of the duplicates folded back into the witch, who curtsied demurely to the crowd as Rosier announced her the winner. She exited the arena, passing the house elf clean-up crew that was on its way in.

Severus shook his head. That had been quick. Draco still hadn't closed his mouth yet. Severus nudged him.

"Damn!" the blonde wizard breathed.

"She's improved the use of my spell a hundred-fold," the Potions Master said with a frown. The Sectumsempra spell was always rather dangerous, but now…dear gods. A brilliant use of it however. Elizabeth deserved her win.

It was at this moment Severus noticed Bellatrix enter with another masked Death Eater. They were on the other side of the arena. The pair walked up the stairs and Bella forced the wizards and witches on the first row to move down. No one complained. This was Bellatrix LeStrange after all.

"Draco," the Potions Master hissed, "Bella is here. No doubt the person with her is Voltaire."

Draco looked at the masked Death Eater, who sat stiffly, staring at the crowd. What was different about him was he wore a full skull mask instead of a half one. A few Death Eaters did start doing this after Voldemort's death, so although it was a bit odd, it wasn't totally unheard of.

"Yes, I believe you're right, Professor," Draco said, feeling his belly tightening, "Tonight is the night this madness finally ends."

"Yes," Severus agreed as Pumbleberry announced the final duelists.

"Fenrir Greyback and Hubert Willings," the fat wizard called out.

The crowd hissed and booed as Fenrir walked into the arena with his too-tight robes and filthy matted hair. He gave the crowd the finger as he watched his opponent enter. Hubert Willings was a younger wizard. He couldn't have been more than thirty, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was about five ten, much smaller than Fenrir. But he had a murderous glint in his eyes as he looked at the huge wizard. The crowd was rooting for him. No one wanted Fenrir to win.

"This is what they would put on my throne?" Voltaire hissed to Bella, his voice muffled by the mask, "This is…is an insult to my father and myself!"

Bella didn't answer him. Voltaire's rage was palpable. There was a light mesh over the mask's eyeholes that he could see through, but didn't show his eyes. Their red color would have been noticed. The witch imagined they were glittering brightly.

Fenrir, who was watching the young wizard intently, suddenly froze, then lifted his great shaggy head and spun slowly, his nostrils pulsating as his eyes narrowed. He had scented something distinctly familiar, unpleasant and frightening…but it was gone now.

Pumbleberry waited until the werewolf turned back to face his opponent, eliciting boos and threats from the audience who would have preferred him to start the match while the werewolf's back was turned.

"BEGIN!" the wizard shouted, sitting down quickly.

Hubert fired a stream of silver at Fenrir. This was the same spell Desecratia had used on the werewolf, but was legal because this was the first time the wizard had used the spell in the competition. But Fenrir was prepared and bounded over Hubert, clearing the spell and him, though the wizard did his best to train the stream on him. Fenrir darted aside and transformed a stone into a large shield, grabbing it and holding it up to block the silver, charging toward Hubert with a roar.

The wizard ran, disillusioning himself. But a disillusionment spell was nothing to a werewolf and Fenrir continued to pursue him, hardly giving the wizard a chance to throw another spell. The crowd was jeering.

"Turn and fight you coward!"

"Don't you let Fenrir defeat you!"

Hubert managed to fire another spell at the werewolf, a bolt of lightening flying from his wand, hitting the shield and shocking the werewolf. The shield conducted electricity and Fenrir dropped it, falling and instinctively rolling away, a crater blasted into the earth where he had landed. If he had slower reflexes, he would have been blown to bits. Copying his opponent's lead, Fenrir disillusioned himself as well, which was very bad for Hubert, who began firing at the werewolf's shimmer wildly. But he couldn't see Fenrir well…he was so fast the shimmer was like a streaked blur of wriggling heat waves, the werewolf long gone from where he blasted.

Suddenly the shimmer was gone, nowhere to be seen.

Hubert blinked before he was absolutely flattened to the ground, crushed as if landed on by a great weight. The audience groaned as his head was snapped back and a large chunk of his throat torn out, blood gushing like a crimson river. The head flopped forward.

The wizard was dead.

Fenrir appeared standing over him, chewing. The werewolf swallowed and wiped his bloody mouth with his hand. What had happened was Fenrir leapt high into the air, taking his shimmer out of view and landed on top of the wizard, dispatching him.

The audience was silent as Fenrir glared at them.

"He is dangerous," Voltaire said in a low voice as he took in the werewolf, "And the others all hate him. How is it he is so fast, Aunt Bella?"

"He is a werewolf. The others are afraid he will turn all Death Eaters if he becomes the next Dark Lord," Bella whispered back.

"Why don't they kill him?" Voltaire asked, his eyes narrowed.

"They are all cowards, Voltaire. Sheep. They need someone to tell them what to do," she hissed at him as Pumbleberry announced Fenrir was the final runner-up to the crowd.

Not one clap of applause met this news. Fenrir scowled at the audience as he exited the ring.

"Now there will be a slight intermission as we set up for the ceremony. Food and drink will be served. Please depart the stand and head out into the outer chamber," Rosier announced. The grumbling Death Eaters obliged.

"Keep your eyes on Bellatrix," Severus said to Draco as they hurried down the stands and into the crowd, working their way toward Bellatrix and her companion.

The crowd milled about in the outer chamber, Voltaire drawing away from others that bumped into him in passing, hissing like a snake. Suddenly he recognized Severus, who was walking toward him.

"My servant," he said in a low voice to himself as the wizard walked past him and addressed Bella.

This angered Voltaire for a moment until he realized the wizard couldn't have recognized him to show him the proper respect. Severus was followed by a tall, blonde-haired wizard with gray eyes. Quite handsome. Voltaire's eyes washed over Draco. Hm. This Death Eater looked like the perfect starter wizard for sexual exploration after learning the ropes with Jordan. Voltaire made a mental note to find out his name.

"Good evening, Bella," Severus said to the witch with a bow.

"Ah, Severus. Would you mind standing near me during the ceremony?" Bella asked him.

"Not at all," Severus replied.

"Good," the witch said, feeling she had an ally in the Potions Master. Not that she would need him, but she felt he would help her considering his part in the coup.

"Hello Bellatrix," Draco said with a bow, also ignoring Voltaire.

"Hello Draco," Bella replied.

Voltaire listened attentively. Draco. His name was Draco.

"Did you enjoy the night's events?" the wizard inquired politely.

Bellatrix's eyes grew dark.

"Not one of them is worthy of the throne," she spat.

"Bella, you'd better change your tune or you may find yourself on the end of a Crucio by our new Dark Lord or Lady," Devon said, walking up to the witch.

"Never!" she hissed.

Rosier smiled spitefully.

"Such denial. Face it, Bella…there will be a new Dark Lord to lead us," the jeweler said.

"I never said there wouldn't be," the witch snapped at him, hate in her eyes.

Rosier laughed.

"So much for the 'true' Dark Lord's return, eh?" he quipped, disappearing into the crowd as both Bellatrix and Voltaire shook with rage.

That wizard would be tortured and killed for his audacity.

Rosier stopped by the arena entrance and called for the crowd to reassemble.

"Come Severus, I wish to be close," Bella said, pushing through the crowd, Voltaire walking beside her but giving no indication they were together. Severus surveyed the crowd. Everyone would be bottle-necked inside the arena, which had only one way in.

"Draco, position yourself behind Bellatrix," the Potions Master whispered as they approached the area where Fenrir, Unther and Elizabeth stood in a line before a small podium. Rosier stood behind it. Elizabeth and Fenrir were glaring at each other.

Suddenly Fenrir stiffened again as Bellatrix and Voltaire appeared at the edge of the crowd, just as Rosier started to give his speech about the prowess of the runner-ups and how they worked so hard to get to this point.

The werewolf stared at the Death Eater in the full mask and robes. The wizard looked back at him. If Fenrir had a tail it would have tucked tightly between his legs. Fenrir wasn't afraid of many things, but this…this he was terrified of…that acrid, reptilian scent.

Voldemort's scent.

Fenrir suddenly let out a yelp and barreled through the crowd at a full run, knocking startled Death Eaters left and right as he fled the arena and Pumbleberry's manor at full speed. Everyone was so stunned, they didn't know how to react. One of the runner-ups had bailed.

Good thing it was Fenrir. He must have cracked under the strain.

Severus looked at Bella, who nudged Voltaire. The wizard stepped forward, pointing his wand over the arena while everyone was distracted.

"Morsmodre!" the young wizard cried in a high-pitched voice, the dread image of the Dark Mark appearing glittering about the startled crowd, which gasped and pressed back, frightened at both the image and the familiar voice that uttered the spell. Draco was caught in the crush behind Bellatrix and Voltaire, unable to work himself free.

Bella blasted Rosier away from the podium, and stepped forward, her eyes full of hatred as she pointed her wand at Elizabeth.

"Avada Kedavra!" she screamed, covering the witch in the deadly green light.

The startled witch didn't stand a chance, neither did Unther as Voltaire took him out with the same spell as the Death Eaters looked on stunned.

"There is only one Dark Lord!" Bella screamed insanely as Voltaire pulled off his hood and ripped the skull mask from his face.

"Oh my gods. He's returned! The Dark Lord's returned!" cries went up in horror and disbelief.

"Yes! Yes! I've returned you sniveling, conniving servants! How dare you try to replace me!" Voltaire hissed as one by one the Death Eaters fell to their knees, crying out for forgiveness. In their shock, not one tried to escape.

Severus pressed his track-a-port.

"It's time!" Kingsley shouted to the Order members, "Wands out and go!"

Suddenly, the arena was filled with Order members, which fell on the kneeling, surprised Death Eaters.

"No! No! We've been betrayed!" Bella screamed, firing blasts into the crowd as the Order and Death Eaters began battling.

Neville Longbottom grimly ran toward the podium, his wand extended as Severus suddenly charged Voltaire, taking the wizard down to the ground, Bella screaming at him.

"You traitorous dog!" the witch screamed at the Potions Master as he struck Voltaire in the jaw and ripped his wand out of his scaly hand. Bella pointed her wand at Severus.

"Avada Ked…"she cried before being covered in the green light of another Killing curse…this one cast by a grim-faced Neville Longbottom.

"Noooooo! Aunt Bella!" Voltaire cried as he watched her writhe in the curse's hold before falling to the ground, dead and wide-eyed, "Noooo!"

Severus dragged the wizard to his feet by his throat.

"No throne for you today, my Lord," he said derisively, choking the wizard until his forked tongue lolled out. Gods, that felt good.

"That's enough, Severus," a familiar voice said coolly, "Voltaire is properly…subdued."

Severus relaxed his grip after giving Voltaire a final squeeze.

"Yes, Headmaster," he said as Voltaire choked. Severus kept a firm grip on him.

"I hope you try to fight boy," he hissed in Voltaire's ear hole, "Please try to get away from me. Please."

Voltaire swallowed painfully, his red eyes shifting to the tall, white-haired wizard in front of him. His beard was waist length and he wore half-moon glasses.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, Voltaire, and you are under my protection now," the old wizard said kindly.

Voltaire's eyes narrowed. Protection? What did he mean "protection?" Weren't they going to kill him? Voltaire stared at Albus, thinking he hadn't heard correctly.

"I am going to help you, my boy. We're going to get you all sorted out. We've looked for you a long, long time," the wizard continued.

"You aren't going to kill me?" Voltaire asked the Headmaster, who shook his head.

"No son. We are not murderers. We are going to take care of you. Help you," the Headmaster said.

Severus snorted.

"However, I want to kill you," he whispered in Voltaire's ear, "So keep that in mind while they are 'helping you.'"

Voltaire looked at Severus and saw death plainly in his eyes.

All around them, Death Eaters were being bound and set on the ground in neat rows by the Order members. There had been quite a few injuries, and several deaths on both sides, but the Order prevailed.

"Cover his face and bring him along, Severus," Albus said.

The Potions Master roughly pulled Voltaire's hood over his head so it shaded his face, twisted his hands behind his back, binding them tightly with his wand, then pushed him forward roughly.

"Follow the Headmaster," he growled.

Voltaire did just that. Bellatrix was dead and now he was alone. Alone but under the protection of his father's greatest nemesis, Albus Dumbledore.

His father had been right.

The old wizard was a fool.

* * *

Back at the stronghold, Jordan was eyeing a vial of thick yellow liquid. It was a colonic guaranteed to make his bowels clean enough to eat out of. He grimaced and began to tilt it to his mouth when his door was flung open and several house elves danced in, smiles of intense joy on their gnarled little faces.

"We is free! Free!" they cried, dancing little frightening jigs around the wizard. They looked like little dancing demons, their pointed teeth showing as they grinned.

Jordan lowered the potion.

"What do you mean, free?" the wizard asked him.

"The wards. The wards on the stronghold. They is dropped. Bellatrix LeStrange is dead. Dead! We can leaves now. All of us! You!" a house elf informed him happily.

Jordan dropped the vial in his hand. It shattered on the stone floor, the yellow contents thickly spreading.

"Free?" he repeated, unable to process the word. He'd been a prisoner so long.

"Yes, Jordan! Free like birds!" another elf said, smiling up at him. "Try to leave."

Jordan stared down at the elf.

"I…I don't know my bearings. I can't disapparate a long distance because I haven't done it in a while," the healer said to the elf.

One had to have confidence when they disapparated, or he would splinch.

"Fine, takes my hand and we will goes outside," the elf said, the other elves all clasping claws as well. Jordan reached down hesitantly and took the creature's hand.

Suddenly he was standing on a rocky mountainside. It was a clear night and hundreds of stars winked down at him. A cool breeze flowed over the wizard and he stared up at the night sky, a sky he hadn't seen in almost nineteen years. His eyes began to glisten.

"It's beautiful," he breathed staring up at the diamonds of the universe winking back at him.

The house elf holding his hand looked up at him.

"The stars, Jordan?" the creature squeaked.

"No…er…yes. But not just the stars. Freedom. Freedom is the most beautiful thing on earth," the wizard replied, rolling his shoulders as if they had just been freed of a heavy, heavy weight.

They stood there a long time, elves and wizard, drinking in the beauty of the night and their new-found liberty.

* * *

Lord Pumbleberry had to be taken to St. Mungos. The wizard was badly beaten, both his eyes swollen shut, his fingers all broken and most of his teeth knocked out.

"Circe! What happened to him, Draco?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked the blonde wizard. Draco was the one who hauled him into the Ministry, dragging him by ropes tied tightly around his bulk.

"I don't know," Draco lied, "He was like that when I found him."

Kingsley noticed the wizard's red and bruised knuckles, but just shook his head. If Draco beat the wizard this badly, he must have deserved it for something he'd done.

"Oh and Kingsley," Draco said to the black Auror before he left.

"Yes, Draco?" Kingsley answered as Pumbleberry was loaded on to a gurney by two more Aurors.

"When you write down his list of offenses, add Practicing Pedophile to the list. I will provide the proof at his trial," the young wizard said, glowering at the broken wizard as if he wished he could beat him a bit more.

Kingsley nodded. Now he understood.

"Will do, Draco," the Auror replied.

Draco walked out of the Ministry into the night air and stopped on the steps, watching as bound Death Eaters were led inside by Order members and Aurors. He took a deep breath.

It was finally over. No more revels, no more weeks spent spying.

It would have all been so perfect if Malina was still alive. He could have focused on really courting the witch, convincing her to be his wife, his lover for the rest of their lives.

His gray eyes went a bit moist as his dream slowly faded.

It was not going to happen now. He could spend the rest of his life mourning or living.

_although it's said that every breath draws us closer to our death  
the final breath I ever take will never shatter never break my love for you_

Draco looked up at the night sky a moment, then wiped his eyes.

He knew Malina would have wanted him to live, to find joy and to eventually…find love.

He wouldn't disappoint her.

* * *

Albus, Severus and Voltaire apparated outside of Hogwarts, then the Headmaster linked arms with the Potions Master and they were transported to the dungeons. They arrived in Severus' bedroom.

Voltaire glanced about before he was roughly pushed into the study by Severus, who made sure Albus didn't see him manhandling the boy but allowing the Headmaster to exit first. Severus let out a little sigh when he saw Hermione standing in the study, staring at the hooded young man with wide eyes.

"Is this him? Voltaire?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes, it is. We collected him without injury," Albus said to the witch with a smile, turning to look at the boy.

Hermione walked up to him, peering into his hood.

"Hello Voltaire. My name is Hermione Granger and I…" she began.

Suddenly Voltaire's head jerked and a gob of mucousy spit hit Hermione in her eye and slowly dripped down her face.

"Get away from me you filthy mudblood!" Voltaire hissed.

Severus tore off the boy's hood and was about to beat him to a pulp when he found he couldn't move. Enraged, his eyes shifted toward Albus, who was shaking his head sadly as he handed Hermione a handkerchief. Her face red, Hermione wiped the spit off her face.

"Voltaire, Miss Granger is my only ally concerning you being helped and rehabilitated. She has spent weeks working on a way to do this. She believes you deserve a second chance at life…don't make her change her mind, my boy…or you may wind up some place you don't want to be," Albus said evenly.

"She is filth. I can smell her taint," the wizard said in his high-pitched voice, "I would rather be tended by house elves than have a muggle-born touch my person."

Hermione, standing back a distance now said, "Why do you hate muggle-borns so much, Voltaire…what have they ever done to you?"

Voltaire refused to even answer the witch. It was beneath him.

Severus looked at Albus murderously, unable to even speak.

Albus decided another tack.

"Voltaire, this witch is very special to Severus," he said to the scaly little tyrant, "And what you have done is very offensive to him."

"It figures that traitorous sack of dragon dung would bed a mudblood," Voltaire hissed.

Severus' eyes went wide and insane, and he began to shudder. Albus quickly took hold of Voltaire and pulled him toward him.

"Let us go," he said to Hermione. "Severus seems on the point of breaking my spell through rage alone. I think we best get Voltaire out of here and situated in his rooms."

"Yes sir," Hermione replied, looking at the stricken wizard apologetically as she opened the wall.

Albus looked back at Severus.

"I will release you once we have Voltaire safely in his room, Severus. You will NOT come down there tonight. Am I understood?" the wizard said to him.

Severus glared his response and Albus nodded.

"We didn't save him to be beaten to death by you. Exercise some discipline," Albus chided him, walking through the wall, which slid down after him.

About ten minutes later Severus felt the spell lift, and strode angrily toward the study wall…then stopped. Albus had given him a direct order not to go down to where Voltaire's rooms were. Severus thought them too close to Hermione's lab.

Angrily, the wizard stalked back into his study, loosening the collar of his robes, his hand brushing his pocket. He paused then reached into it, pulling out his own wand and Voltaire's wand as well.

Severus studied it. Twelve inches and made of yew just like his father's wand. Severus didn't know if it had a phoenix feather core.

Well he'd find out.

With one smooth motion he snapped the wand in two, then peered down at it.

"No, not Phoenix feather. Dragonheart string," he said, an evil smirk on his pale face. He proceeded to break the wand into several tiny pieces, then tied it into a small bundle with the heartstring.

"Wait until they ask for his wand," Severus grinned.

Hermione was going to be as mad as a wet kneazle. Albus would only be angry for a moment. The Headmaster might be a bleeding heart, but he wasn't going to return Voltaire's wand to him. It would have eventually been destroyed. Might as well be now.

The Potions Master felt a bit better after destroying something Voltaire treasured.

Severus retired to his bedroom and went to bed. Hermione wouldn't be available for a few days, he was sure.

* * *

Early the next morning, Severus hurried down to the room Voltaire was being kept in. He opened the door imperiously to find the wizard bolted firmly in the restraining chair and Hermione trying to feed him some breakfast. The wizard was in a muggle sweat suit, his red eyes flashing at the witch.

"Get away from me you fucking mudblood!" he hissed, then his eyes widened as Severus strode up to him, looking ready to kill.

"Severus! Get away from him," Hermione yelled at the wizard.

His nostrils flared, Severus looked at Hermione as if he'd like to kick her ass too. Instead, he snatched the bowl of food out of her hand and flung it across the room.

"Severus!" Hermione yelled at him, "What do you think you're doing?"

"If he doesn't want to eat, don't feed him. Maybe we'll be lucky and he'll starve to death," the wizard seethed.

"That's cruel!" Hermione said, "He has to eat something. He's…he's just upset."

"He's a twisted, disrespectful piece of shit, Hermione. You're never going to be able to help him. You and Albus should just leave him to me!" Severus said, looking at Voltaire, who paled.

Berating a little witch was one thing…dealing with the Potions Master was another.

"He hasn't been here a full day, Severus. He needs time to adjust…to understand what we are trying to do," Hermione said, "No one has explained it to him yet."

"You really think that will make a difference witch?" he asked her, "Well, I'll tell him then."

Severus spun on Voltaire and crossed his arms, staring down at the wizard and scowling blackly. Voltaire could almost feel the dark wizard's hatred flowing over him as those black eyes rested on him.

"Albus and Hermione have the insane idea that they can change what you are, Voltaire. They believe with love and tender treatment they can undo all that Bella has done to make you the way you are. They have an anti-elixir that will return you to your human state and take away any additional power the elixir gave you. It is their hope that you will become a proper member of wizarding society and live your miserable life idyllically and perfectly for the rest of your days," he said sarcastically, "But we both know that won't happen, will it? You aren't a product of Bellatrix LeStrange but of your father's blood. You want to rule and that's all you want, isn't it? You were willing to kill your own sister because she was more powerful than you…and I imagine you feel nothing about Bella's death other than it's an inconvenience. Personally, I think you should be destroyed like a mad animal…and if they fail in their efforts…I will be the one to kill you…I assure you, Voltaire, that you will never go to Azkaban, even if I have to go in your stead for your murder. This I vow."

Hermione gasped in horror as Severus' wizarding oath took hold. He had sworn to kill Voltaire if they failed. Dear gods.

"Severus," Hermione said, standing up and looking at the wizard in disbelief, "You just swore to kill this boy."

"There will never be another Dark Lord as long as I live, Hermione. Never," Severus replied. Then he exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione looked at Voltaire, who was trembling and shaking in his restraints. He had never felt such fear in his life. He had killed, but the idea of losing his own life frightened him greatly. He had a feeling not even Albus Dumbledore could protect him from Severus if the Potions Master wanted him dead. He felt naked, vulnerable…helpless. He licked his lips, his red eyes shifting toward Hermione. She was special to the wizard. He realized he really did need her as an ally if he wanted to live.

"I think I will eat something now," Voltaire said softly to the witch.

* * *

Three days later, Severus, Hermione and Albus stood in Voltaire's rooms, the wizard restrained in his chair, naked except for a towel draped across his lap, eyeing the bottle Severus held in his hand. The one that would take his power.

After Severus taking the oath to kill him, Voltaire became much more cooperative…not speaking to Hermione nastily any more and allowing her to feed him. Albus came and took him for bathroom breaks four times a day, releasing him and allowing him to go into the bathroom alone and shower as well. Voltaire went through all the cabinets thinking the running water hid the sound of his rummaging, but there was nothing in them that he could use. He would return to the bedroom and sit down obediently as the old wizard locked him back in. He had yet to sleep in the bed.

Severus uncorked the bottle.

"Open up," he said darkly, putting the anti-elixir against the boy's lipless mouth, "Swallow!"

Severus tilted the bottle and watched Voltaire drink it down, hoping it would be too much for his body to handle and he would die from it.

Hermione clasped her hands nervously as Severus fed Voltaire the anti-elixir. A small hand mirror rested on the nightstand next to Voltaire's bed. The witch hoped she hadn't inadvertently murdered the boy herself. It would be horrible. Severus stepped away from him, his eyes glittering. At least he would get to see the little bastard suffer.

He stepped back and waited. Voltaire was staring at Hermione as the shudders began, becoming more violent, the wizard gagging horribly but nothing coming out. He let out a piercing scream that made Hermione cover her ears and tears form as the young wizard continued screaming as if his insides were being torn apart. Blood dripped from beneath his black nails and on to the stone floor.

Suddenly black, stinking blood burst from his mouth, nose and even his ear holes covering his scaly body, soaking the towel, overflowing the fabric and dripping to the floor. It looked like too much blood for the wizard to contain. Voltaire fell still as if dead.

Severus felt his heart tighten. Had the anti-elixir killed him? If it had, then this madness was truly over.

Suddenly, the scales on Voltaire's face began to shed, followed by more scales over his body. His face began to warp, twist and bubble as his features changed, lips and nostrils appearing. Ears grew on the sides of his head and a shadow of dark hair sprouted on his bald head.

"No," Severus said to himself as Hermione smiled. It was working…Voltaire was being restored. The long black fingernails and toes lightened and drew inward, normal cuticles now showing. The boy shuddered again several more times, then fell still again.

After about half an hour, Voltaire opened his eyes. They were black and dazed.

"Did it work?" he asked in a deeper more resonant voice.

Hermione moved forward.

"Yes…yes it worked, Voltaire," she said, picking up the hand mirror off the nightstand, walking up to him and holding up the mirror so he could see himself. Yes…he looked…normal. Like everyone else. Voltaire didn't like it, but he smiled anyway.

"Thank you," he said, smiling at Hermione, "Thank you for restoring me."

Hermione smiled over at Albus, who looked triumphant. The boy appreciated what they had done. It was the first step to getting him right.

Severus scowled at him. He wasn't fooled.

Albus scourgified the blood from him, clothed him in another sweat suit, then unlocked his restraints. Severus stared at the Headmaster.

"What are you doing, Albus?" he asked the wizard.

"He is a normal young wizard now, Severus…and without a wand. There is no reason to restrain him now, though he will still be warded in.

"Suppose he attempts to overpower Hermione when she enters?" Severus said, glaring at Voltaire, who stood up and looked at him innocently.

"I won't do that. I understand what she is trying to do for me," he said to the Potions Master, then he looked at Hermione, "And I am very grateful."

"See, Severus! He understands," Hermione gushed.

Severus shook his head.

"And you're both going to take the word of a boy who only three days ago wanted to rule the wizarding world with an iron rod?" he hissed at them.

"The trust must start someplace, Severus," Albus said, smiling kindly on Voltaire.

Severus shook his head in frustration. Bloody Gryffindors. It was a wonder any of them made it past the age of fifty. Hermione and Albus were both so blind. So very, very blind. They were being manipulated.

"Beside, I can protect myself quite well, Severus. I was a member of Dumbledore's army, remember?" Hermione reminded him. "I can hex on the fly."

Voltaire kept his face neutral at this statement. So the witch knew defensive spells. Good thing she said something, he might have tried to get her wand from her.

"Yes, and now you've told him that," Severus sneered, throwing up his hands.

"I'm not going to do anything," Voltaire repeated, cementing the sentiment in both Hermione's and Albus' psyches.

"Well, I hope you do," Severus said to him hatefully, "I sincerely hope you do, Voltaire. I'm not going to fall for this act and will have both eyes on you."

Severus looked at Hermione, then back at Voltaire.

"If even one hair on this witch's head gets out of place because of you, count on a very painful death, boy," Severus snarled at him, then once again exited the room, all three looking after him.

"I'm sorry, Voltaire," Albus said softly, "Severus has been through a lot concerning your father, and holds much bitterness. But you have nothing to fear from him as long as you conduct yourself properly."

Voltaire nodded.

"Yes sir," he said, using sir for the first time since being captured.

Albus beamed at his usage of the term of respect.

"This is too, too easy," Voltaire thought, "I'll have my wand back and my freedom in no time at this rate."

"Is my sister here?" Voltaire asked suddenly.

Albus and Hermione looked at each other.

"Yes, she is attending classes here. But she doesn't know you are here, Voltaire. We didn't tell her because it would have frightened her. She believes you wanted to kill her," Hermione said to him.

Voltaire frowned at this.

"But Volaria is my sister…my blood. I would never have hurt her. She is the only family I have," the young wizard lied.

Albus couldn't detect any falseness in the wizard's statement. Bella had taught Voltaire Occlumency well, performing attack after attack on his mind, making his ability to block his true thoughts strong and since Severus' threat, the boy kept the walls down allowing only falsified thoughts of gratefulness and happiness to seep through. Albus would never intrude in his mind with the viciousness of Bellatrix, particularly when he sensed such positive reactions in the young wizard.

Hermione and Albus looked at each other.

"Most likely she was paranoid because of Bella," Hermione suggested.

Albus wasn't sure. But Voltaire certainly didn't seem to harbor any resentment against his sister.

"Can I see her?" he asked them.

"I don't know if she'll want to see you, Voltaire," Hermione admitted, "But I can ask her for you."

"Thank you, Hermione," Voltaire replied, smiling, "That's all I ask."

"Well, Voltaire, we are going to ward you in now," Albus said, "I have other duties to attend to. Hermione will bring you your dinner. I am pleased the elixir worked."

"As am I, Headmaster," Voltaire replied soberly.

Hermione and Albus exited the room. Voltaire heard Hermione ward the door.

He sat down on the bed, thinking. Those two idiots would be putty in his hands, but Severus? Severus was going to be a problem, the traitorous fuck. Well, he'd just have to bide his time, gain more of Hermione's and Albus' trust. The Headmaster was over the Potions Master and could control him to some extent. As long as Voltaire didn't do anything overtly horrible, he was safe from the wizard.

He could wait until they released him to do something horrible.

* * *

Two days later, Volaria was in the process of walking up the dungeon corridor after leaving Potions class when Professor Snape opened his office door and with one pale finger beckoned her inside. Volaria always seemed to be the last one to leave the classroom, checking over her notes and the board to make sure she had all of her assignments correct.

The blonde witch entered the Potions office, her backpack slung over one shoulder, bulging with books. Severus looked at her. Yes, she did remind him of Hermione in her younger years.

"You should reduce your books," he suggested, "It will save your posture."

Volaria looked surprised she hadn't thought of this herself.

"Thanks Professor," she said, putting her backpack on the floor, sitting down in the rickety chair and looking at the wizard expectantly. After a moment, Severus held out a piece of parchment. Volaria took it from him and studied it. It was a pass for extra Potions tutoring, signed for today from seven pm – until.

"Give that to Professor Flitwick after supper, then meet me here," the Potions Master said, "We must work on the spell."

Volaria looked at the Professor, who stared back at her stoically. Suddenly, she knew.

"He's here isn't he?" she said in a whisper, her eyes starting to fill with terror.

Severus studied her.

"Yes, he's here. But before you melt into a puddle of terror, Miss Ruddle, I must let you know that he has been transformed back into a normal wizard…in appearance at least. And he has no wand," the Potions Master said.

Volaria blinked at him for several moments.

"He has lips and a nose?" she asked him.

"Yes. Yes. Hair, ears…the works, Miss Ruddle. He is no longer a magical danger to you," Severus said impatiently, "However, he seems willing to cooperate with us and be rehabilitated."

"He's lying," Volaria said firmly, "He's planning something terrible. He might act like he's going along Professor, but I know him. He's not."

"I agree with your assessment, Miss Ruddle, which is why I want you to have that spell down pat when Miss Granger comes to you with the news Voltaire wants to see you."

He arched an eyebrow at her.

Volaria nodded slowly, though her heart was pounding at the idea of seeing her brother again.

"When we meet tonight, I will go over the details with you…what you are to do," the wizard said to her, "No one must ever know I was involved with this, Miss Ruddle. If you go through with it…you will face the consequences alone. This is the price we pay for following our own hearts."

"I understand, Professor. I would never implicate you," the witch said bravely, "He's my brother. This is up to me."

Severus nodded with approval.

"You would have made a fine Slytherin, Miss Ruddle," he said to the witch by way of compliment."

Volaria gave him a little smile as she stood up and hoisted her bag on her shoulder.

"Yes. But I think I make a finer Ravenclaw," she said with a bit of house pride.

Severus fought back a smirk.

"Until this evening, Miss Ruddle," he said, opening the door for her.

"Goodbye, Professor Snape," the girl said, exiting his office.

Severus closed the door and looked thoughtful. Volaria seemed determined to see this through, but when the wands were down, could she do it?

Only time would tell.

* * *

Severus stared at the niffler Volaria just placed the spell on.

"Quite effective," Severus said to the rather pale witch, "You learn quickly. Did it drain you?"

"I feel a bit drained, but not too much," she replied.

Severus took out another niffler, which was happily running on the wheel in the cage when it was grabbed. The Potions Master set it on the floor in front of Volaria.

"Again," he said imperiously.

Volaria concentrated, then cast the spell. Again, it was effective.

"Very good. You are probably going to have to focus much harder when it comes to Voltaire. Remember what you are going for…oblivion," the wizard said.

Volaria nodded.

"Yes sir," she replied, staring at the niffler.

* * *

The following Friday evening, Hermione retrieved Volaria from supper and brought her up to Albus' office. The Headmaster was seated at his desk.

"Ah, good evening, Miss Ruddle," the Headmaster said to her.

"Good evening sir," Volaria replied, sitting in one comfy armchair in front of the wizard's desk as Hermione took the other. Hermione didn't greet him. Volaria knew the witch had probably already been with the Headmaster before she came to get her.

"Volaria, I brought you here to inform you Voltaire is here at the castle," Albus said.

Volaria sat there without any visible reaction, her face a bit stony.

Hermione leaned forward.

"Volaria, don't you have anything to say about that?" she asked the young witch.

Volaria shook her head.

"No. You already told me he was coming, Hermione and I told you how I felt about it. There is nothing else to say," she replied.

Hermione and Albus looked at each other.

"He wants to see you, Volaria. He's been very cooperative and wanted me to ask if you would visit him. It wouldn't have to be a long visit," Hermione said.

"What has he been saying?" Volaria asked.

"He's been telling us what it was like to be raised by Bellatrix. How she used to beat him to make him strong and able to stand great pain," the wizard said.

Volaria looked incredulous.

"Bellatrix never beat him! She let him do whatever he wanted. He never got punished for anything!" she declared.

"Maybe she didn't let you see her mistreat him that way, but she did beat him, Volaria and forced him to kill animals and house elves," Hermione said.

"No. No, he liked to kill, Hermione….I swear he did. Voltaire's lying to get you to sympathize with him," the witch claimed.

Both Hermione and Albus sighed. The girl was definitely riding on the wrong broom.

"He also told us, Miss Ruddle, that he would never harm his own sister. Perhaps it was because of Bellatrix you felt that way," the Headmaster said gently, "He loves you."

"Oh good gods," Volaria thought, feeling a lot like she imagined Professor Snape felt toward these two. Her mouth formed a thin line. She wasn't going to say anything more about this but thought she might need a pair of thigh high boots to wade through all the dragon dung Voltaire was spreading about in his rooms.

"Will you go see him?" Hermione asked the witch, "He's no longer dangerous. He's been changed back into a normal young wizard now…he's very handsome and he has no wand, so it will be safe to visit him."

"Can I bring my wand?" she asked.

"Yes, you can," the Headmaster replied, thinking it would make the witch more at ease.

"All right. I'll visit him then. When?" she asked.

"Tonight. Now," Hermione said, smiling.

"Now?" Volaria said, her heart starting to pound again. She thought she'd have some time to get ready, to prepare herself.

"No time like the present, Miss Ruddle," Albus said briskly, rubbing his hands together and standing up, "We'll take the floo."

"But…but…" Volaria protested weakly as Hermione drew her out of the chair and walked toward the fireplace, "I'm…I'm not ready."

"Just cold feet, Miss Ruddle," Albus chuckled, throwing some floo powder into the flames, which turned green.

"Hermione Granger's rooms," the wizard said.

They all walked through.

* * *

Severus was walking down the dungeon corridor from supper when he saw Hermione, Albus and Volaria exit Hermione's rooms. He ducked back into a niche, watching closely as they turned into the niche that led to the lower levels.

"Well Volaria, it's up to you now," the wizard breathed.

* * *

"Volaria!" Voltaire said with a warm smile, walking up to his sister and embracing her warmly. Hermione and Albus beamed as the witch tensed up, her face pressed into her brother's chest. Voltaire released her.

"I've missed you," he said to the witch, who narrowed her eyes at him. Yes, he looked a lot like he used to, but was older now, his face more mature and angular. His voice was much deeper too.

"You look…good, Voltaire," Volaria said cautiously.

"I feel good. Better than I've ever felt in my life, sister. How do you like attending Hogwarts?" he asked.

Volaria felt as if everything were surreal…Voltaire being polite and making small talk, acting as if he cared what she did…had he really changed?

"I enjoy it," she said shortly, looking back at Albus and Hermione, who immediately misinterpreted her look.

"I imagine you would both like to be alone to catch up," Albus said walking to the door, followed by a smiling Hermione, "Just knock when you want to be let out, Volaria…but you can visit as long as you like."

Volaria looked at them nervously.

"All right," she said in a soft voice.

Witch and wizard exited, and she looked back at Voltaire, whose eyes instantly narrowed.

"It figured you'd just fold and go along with them. You're so fucking weak, Volaria," he hissed at her.

Volaria frowned. Now this was the Voltaire she remembered.

"They offered me a normal life…not one full of blood and death, Voltaire. I didn't want that," she shot back at him, "Now I have friends and teachers. I'm happy for the first time in my life."

"Didn't take much did it? You're as much a traitor as that bastard Snape," Voltaire said, sitting down on the bed.

"You were going to kill me, Voltaire. I know you were. You considered me a rival for father's throne when I never wanted it," she said.

"I couldn't have you producing children, Volaria. They will be rivals as well, and might not have your attitude," the wizard shot back at her.

Volaria looked at her brother with her eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean they 'will' be rivals, Voltaire? You're not going to be the Dark Lord now. You're normal," she said to him.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to just be another commonplace wizard, Volaria. I was born to lead. I will become king…as soon as I can get out of this place. Dumbledore is a fool just as our father believed. I just have to tell him and Hermione what they want to hear and I get a little closer to freedom every day. I don't care if it takes years…when I am on my own, I will recruit new Death Eaters…younger ones, stronger ones…and we will take the wizarding world by storm!" Voltaire swore, magic swirling around him.

"You invoked an oath, Voltaire…how did you do that? You're not eighteen yet!" the witch gasped.

Voltaire shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe the elixir had something to do with it. But it doesn't matter. I am deadly serious about it. You'd do well to swear fealty to me now sister, and maybe I will spare you when I regain my throne. Maybe," Voltaire said to her.

Volaria studied her brother. Yes, she had to do it. She had to cast the spell and end this madness before it began again. She remembered what Professor Snape had suggested to her at the end of their last lesson. He was right. It was best to do it that way.

"I see you are going to do this, Voltaire…so I guess I have no choice," she said.

"No, you don't if you want to live," the wizard replied, a victorious look on his face.

Volaria walked toward him slowly as if to embrace him. Voltaire, thinking this was how she was going to swear fealty opened his arms and accepted her. Volaria clutched him close and focused.

"Obliviate!" she cried.

Suddenly she was drawn into Voltaire's mind as the wizard shuddered against her.

"Like a vacuum…draw it all out," she remembered Professor Snape saying to her as she focused on the niffler, reliving its small life as she removed its memories. Now it happened with Voltaire. She saw him at the arena, casting the Dark Mark above the crowd and drew it past her like a great wind. She saw him crucioing Bellatrix, drinking the elixir, murdering unarmed wizards and witches with the Killing curse, having sex with Bella….the memories flew past her faster and faster, falling into the void she'd created behind her, pouring out of the wizard's mind like water. She went back farther.

Now she saw Voltaire being embraced by Bella, killing a house elf with a club, flicking eggs at her, telling her to shut up when she drank the elixir. Then killing small animals with a pointed metal rod, sitting in Bellatrix's lap as she caressed his head and told him he would be the greatest wizard in the world and she would be his queen…then back further until she saw him with Jordan, the wizard bouncing him on his knees, Voltaire laughing wildly. This was the place to stop…before all the madness.

Volaria pulled away from the wizard, who looked at her blankly for a moment.

"Jordo?" he asked her, blinking.

"No, Voltaire. I'm not Jordo," she said softly, "I'm your sister, Volaria. You're my brother."

"Want Jordo!" Voltaire said, his eyes beginning to fill with tears.

"Jordan's not here," Volaria said, watching as her brother began to cry, looking around the room with a lost look in his dark eyes. He didn't know where he was. It was a strange place. He wanted Jordan, who was safe and familiar. Suddenly he let out a screech.

"I want Jordo!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, falling back on the bed and kicking his legs in a perfect tantrum as Volaria backed up, her hand over her mouth.

She hadn't expected this.

The door was flung open and Albus and Hermione ran into the room.

Hermione ran over to Voltaire and tried to calm him.

"Voltaire, what's wrong?" she cried.

"Want Jordo! Want Jordo!" the wizard cried, rolling over and hiding his face from the witch.

Albus looked at Volaria, his blue eyes dark behind his half-moon glasses.

"What did you do?" he demanded of the little witch as Hermione tried to roll Voltaire back over.

"No! No! Lemme 'lone! Jordo!" he cried, fighting with Hermione weakly, like a young child would do.

"What I had to," Volaria replied, looking at her brother, "Now you really can show him what it's like to be raised with love."

Hermione rose up off the bed and walked toward Volaria slowly.

"Why? Why do this, Volaria? Didn't he deserve a chance?" the witch asked her.

Volaria nodded.

"I gave him one. An honest one, Hermione…and in the process I gave the wizarding world one as well. He didn't change, Headmaster," she said, turning toward Albus. "He told me what he planned to do…so I had to do something…don't you see. He was fooling you…"

She looked back at Hermione.

"Fooling the both of you," the witch said.

Suddenly Severus walked into the room. He looked at the sobbing Voltaire, sitting up on the bed now, wiping his nose with his sleeve and shuddering, red-faced. He looked lost and frightened.

"What's going on here," Severus asked.

Hermione looked at him.

"Volaria's obliviated almost all of Voltaire's memories. He's got the mind of an infant," Hermione said, looking at the witch, who looked back at her steadily, "And she's got to be punished for it, Albus. She can't get away with this."

Severus studied the young witch.

"Miss Ruddle, let me see your wand," he said imperiously, holding out his hand.

Volaria reached into her pocket, withdrew her wand and handed it to the Potions Master.

He looked at it, then held it out.

"Priori Incantatum," he said.

From the tip of Volaria's wand, the image of a potted plant appeared, suddenly growing much larger. The image faded.

"Apparently, the last thing she used her wand on was a plant in Herbology," the Potions Master said, "Here is your wand, Miss Ruddle."

He handed the wand to the witch, who pocketed it again, then turned toward Hermione and Albus.

"There is no proof she cast the Obliviate spell on her brother," the Professor said, his eyes glittering.

"You know she can do wandless magic, Severus!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yes I do. As do you and Albus. Voltaire did know…but he knows no longer. How are you going to explain to the Ministry her abilities when you hid them from everyone's knowledge? Hiding the ability to do wandless magic is a crime as you well know. If you report Volaria, you, Albus and I will be the ones serving a bit of time, if she even shows she can do wandless magic, which I doubt…as a Ravenclaw, she will do. Am I right, Miss Ruddle?" he purred at the witch.

Volaria looked at him wide-eyed.

"Wandless magic? I only just learned how to use a wand!" Volaria exclaimed convincingly.

Severus looked at Hermione and Albus with a small smirk as Volaria walked over and stood by his side, also looking at them.

"Severus, you put her up to this! This stinks of Slytherin!" Hermione exclaimed furiously.

Severus arched an eyebrow at the angry witch, then looked down at Volaria.

"Miss Ruddle, did I have anything to do with what happened here?" he asked her.

"No sir. You barely even speak to me, though you were kind enough to tutor me in Potions one evening, though you weren't happy about it. I appreciated that, sir," Volaria replied.

Albus looked from Severus to Volaria, sighed and shook his head.

"Hermione, apparently Volaria is in the clear. We cannot prove she did this without implicating ourselves. We will have to start rehabilitating Mr. Ruddle from the ground up. That is our only recourse. We can't even demand a pensieve from Miss Ruddle because of her age," the wizard said.

Hermione stood tight-lipped for a moment, then suddenly slumped. They were outdone by a thirteen-year-old witch…and most likely a conniving sneaking wizard bordering on forty.

"Fine," she snapped bad-naturedly.

Severus' lip quirked.

"Well, if we are finished here, I think I will escort Miss Ruddle back to the dungeon corridor," the wizard said, guiding Volaria towards the door, "She needs her rest for class tomorrow and I am sure it's been a trying evening for her. Goodnight, Hermione. Headmaster."

And with that Severus and Volaria departed.

"Jorrrrrrrrdoooo!" Voltaire wailed.

Albus looked at the wizard sitting on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him speculatively as Voltaire chose this moment to hold his breath.

"Do you think he's at least potty-trained?" the Headmaster asked Hermione, who frowned distastefully.

"Gods, I hope so," she replied.

* * *

Volaria and Severus walked up the long stairwell silently. When they finally reached the dungeon corridor, Severus accompanied her as far as his office, then stopped. He looked at her soberly for a moment, then arched an eyebrow at the witch.

"Well done, Miss Ruddle. A Slytherin couldn't have done it any better," he said to the witch.

"No, a Slytherin couldn't have, sir. That's why it took a Ravenclaw," she replied.

For the first time since she'd met him, Volaria heard Professor Snape laugh.

* * *

When sixty-one-year-old Abby McGuire answered the heavy knock at her door mid-afternoon, she had her wand with her.

"Blooming saleswizards. Can't they read the blooming "No Soliciting" sign? It's right there. Well, some heated boots ought to get the message across," she grumbled.

The stout witch opened the door, her hazel eyes narrowed as she looked up at the tall, brown-eyed, brown-haired wizard who stared back at her as if she were a ghost. He looked familiar. He probably had been by here before.

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying," Abby said, shooting flames at his run-over boots.

Jordan leapt back.

"Mum! Mum it's me!" he exclaimed.

Abby looked at him. Had this man called her mum? How disrespectful! She reached into her robes pocket and pulled out her glasses, putting them on and peering at the man with enlarged eyes. She stared at him in disbelief.

"Jordan?" she said in a whisper.

He nodded.

"Yes, mum. Yes, it's me," he said, staring at her, his brown eyes glistening.

"No…it can't be…my Jordan is dead…killed by Death Eaters they said," she murmured at him.

Jordan shook his head.

"No mum. I was kept a prisoner for all this time. A Death Eater took me, but kept me on as a healer. She's dead now, and I was able to escape. I was able to…to come home," he said softly.

Abby stared at him for a moment longer. He was older, but there was no mistaking those eyes and that smile. He was the spitting image of his father at that age, if a bit skinnier. Abby let out a shriek, ran forward and wrapped her arms around her boy, pulling him down with her weight.

"It's a miracle!" she blubbered, wetting Jordan's robes with her tears as he held her just as tightly, "A bloody miracle! My Jordan's come home! After almost twenty years, you've come home! Come in! Come in!"

Abby bodily dragged Jordan through the doorway, screaming for his father and slamming the door shut behind them.

He was home. After nineteen years of captivity, Jordan Steven McGuire was finally home.

He wondered if his healer's license was still good.

* * *

Severus talked to "the hand" for about a week. Hermione was furious with him and refused to even have a conversation with the wizard, much less give him a bit of nookie. The Potions Master soon stopped trying to talk to her at all, passing by her wordlessly whenever he met her in the dungeons. Fed up, one evening Hermione stormed into his rooms with a piece of parchment in her hands and slapped it down on his desk. The wizard was still working on the end of year exams.

The Potions Master looked up at Hermione. Her amber eyes were flashing with anger. Oh, she was such a hot little witch when she was like this. Severus put his pen down and leaned back in the swivel chair, arching an eyebrow at her.

"May I help you, Miss Granger?" he purred at her.

"Don't 'Miss Granger' me, Severus. I need you to sign off on the Anti-Elixir so I can get credit for it. I'm leaving Hogwarts," she said, crossing her arms. She expected the wizard to blow a torchlight, but Severus just looked at her evenly, pulled the parchment toward him, read it over, then signed it. He pushed it back towards her.

"Will there be anything else?" the wizard asked her.

Hermione was a bit taken aback. Yes, she had given Severus the cold shoulder, neck and ass all week, but she expected some kind of rise out of him. He hadn't even asked her when she was leaving or where she was going to work. Actually, Albus had her working on some pet projects for the time being. What Hermione was really trying to do was open up the lines of dialogue with the wizard without seeming as if she were giving in.

Little did she know, Severus knew she still had work she was doing for the Headmaster, and had an idea exactly what she was up to…the little minx.

"No…I guess not," she said slowly

Severus went back to working on the exam, but Hermione didn't leave. She stood there looking at him. Presently the wizard looked up as if surprised to see her still standing there.

"Are you here to 'make up' with me, Hermione?" he asked her directly.

Hermione turned red but stood her ground.

"Actually, I'm here to give you the opportunity to make up with me," she retorted.

Severus once again put his quill down.

"In that case, my bedroom is only several steps away," the wizard replied, "The 'making up' can commence immediately."

The Potions Master knew Hermione wasn't going to go for this, but in some cases the direct route was the best route.

Hermione glowered at him.

"Severus, it takes more than sex to repair a rift in a relationship," she said, "We need to talk."

Talk. The act that women put men through from time immemorial to further punish them by making them talk about their "feelings" before agreeing to let them get at them again. Severus stood up and walked around his desk toward the witch. He stopped about a foot from her.

"I think I can provide you something better than a talk, witch. Knowledge," he said, then walked over to his bookcase, slid a false front aside and removed a small bowl, closing the books back and carrying it over to Hermione.

"Here," he said, handing her the pensieve.

"What's this?" Hermione said, looking at the silvery strands swirling in the bowl.

"These are Volaria's memories concerning what happened that evening with Voltaire. I've had it for several days now, waiting for you to calm down enough to be willing to see what occurred between the witch and her brother. It also contains what occurred between the witch and myself. It will give you the answers you need to either move past this…"

Here Severus hesitated for a moment.

"Or not," he said meaningfully, "You may take it with you to view privately. Then, if you wish to talk to me, I will be here."

Severus returned to his desk. Hermione looked down at the pensieve, then back at the Potions Master, who was once again writing. He didn't look up again. Hermione exited his rooms.

"You'll be back," Severus said under his breath as the wall closed.

* * *

The full moon came and went without incident, Remus and Eloise sharing the barn during the transformation, playing together and sleeping side by side. Rubin rolled out the silver fencing for the night, and kept watch but no other werewolves showed up to his relief. Following his animal instincts, Remus made a few weak advances toward Eloise throughout the night, but was constantly snarled down by the alpha bitch until he rolled on his back in submission.

It wasn't going to be that easy, wolfie.

Rubin had informed Eloise of the Death Eater arrests. The Prophet listed all the names of the captured witches and wizards.

"Fenrir Greyback isn't listed. That means he wasn't captured and is still out here," Rubin said to the witch as they sat outside at a wooden table drinking coffee.

"Good. If he was in prison, I couldn't get my revenge," Eloise said, her eyes lightly veining.

The farmer considered her, but said nothing. Most likely Fenrir would be lying low for the time being. Aurors visited the werewolf village in search of him but didn't find hide or hair of the wizard.

The werewolves themselves weren't concerned about Fenrir. They had something else to be excited about. The monthly newsletter from the Ministry had been issued and what it contained made every male werewolf in the village take note.

The listing contained name, age, sex, breeding status if female and the location of each newly registered werewolf. Underneath "breeding status" there was usually the letter "S" which stood for "Sterile."

But Eloise Hedgeberry had an "F" under her breeding status. "F" meant "Fertile."

The bitch could breed.

Also under sex, the Ministry used "WZ" for a wizard and "WI" for a witch. Eloise had an "M" for muggle.

So there was a fertile muggle werewolf bitch staying at Fezwig's farm.

The male werewolves wasted no time forming a "welcoming" party. About fourteen wizards apparated to Rubin's farm to welcome Eloise into the ranks and hopefully impress her.

The silver fencing was magically rolled back during the day and the farm was wide open. Rubin was outside pitching hay when he noticed the mass of men walking towards his farm. Eloise was in the barn bathing and shaving.

Rubin leaned on his pitchfork and idly placed his hand in his pocket, gripping the handle of his wand. He could tell that every single wizard was a werewolf by the slightly veined eyes. They were here for Eloise.

The group stopped a respectful distance away and one man walked forward, hailing Rubin.

"Hello, Mr. Fezwig. My name is Gordon Claw and we're representatives from the werewolf village. We've come to pay our respects to Miss Hedgeberry," the wizard said, smiling.

Rubin eyed them.

"I see. Are all the werewolves in your village male?" he called back to the wizard, who smirked.

"No," he admitted.

"Without females, it really isn't a proper representation is it, Mr. Claw?" Rubin said, his eyes narrowed.

"No. But the females aren't as interested in meeting Miss Hedgeberry as we are, sir. May we speak to her?" Gordon asked him.

Rubin considered the group.

"What if I told you no?" the farmer inquired.

"Then we would leave sir. We don't intend to offend," Gordon replied sincerely.

Rubin thought about this. They might leave, but he could be sure they'd be skulking about every day and night hoping to get a glimpse of Eloise. Maybe it would be better just to let them meet her. Rubin leaned the pitchfork against the fence, pulled out his wand and created another long wooden table and two benches. Then he made a wooden chair that rested a little distance from the tables.

"Come over then and have a seat," the farmer said, "Miss Hedgeberry is indisposed at the moment, but will be out in a bit."

"Thank you sir," Gordon said, motioning to the other to follow. The group of werewolves entered the yard and sat down on the benches, seven men at each table.

Rubin walked over to the barn and knocked on the door.

"Come in, Rubin," Eloise called.

Rubin pushed the door open and entered to find Eloise seated at the table, fresh and clean.  
She was dressed in a blue cotton long-sleeved shirt, blue jeans and work boots and running a towel over her damp hair.

"You have visitors," the farmer said to the muggle, his eyes serious.

Eloise stopped toweling her hair.

"Visitors? Who would be visiting me?" Eloise asked him, putting the towel down on the table.

"Apparently several virile wizards from the local werewolf community," the farmer replied. "The Ministry puts out a newsletter giving information on newly registered werewolves. They give personal details. Most likely these fellows know you can breed and want to get a paw up."

"What?" Eloise said, not able to believe this.

They came to see if they could mate with her?

"That's horrible," Eloise said, frowning toward the door.

Rubin shook his head.

"These men are werewolves, Eloise. Their presence here is based on animal attraction and natural instincts. It is a part of the social structure of the pack, not of civilized society and among werewolves, perfectly acceptable. One or two may test your mettle and try to bully you verbally…they don't know if you are an alpha female or not. Most likely, they are hoping you aren't because then all of them could have at you," the farmer said warningly.

Eloise's brown eyes narrowed. She was no submissive bitch.

She rose.

"I guess I'd better go meet the boys, then," she said walking toward the door as Rubin shook his head. Those dogs didn't know what was coming at them.

Eloise paused at the door before pushing it open and stepping out into the yard. She surveyed the men who quickly stood up when she appeared. Maybe she would find a champion among them…hopefully several champions.

Just as Eloise began to approach the men, there was the sound of apparition, and Remus Lupin appeared…a shocked look on his face as he saw all the werewolves standing around the table.

He then saw Eloise standing a distance away, looking at him, then back at the waiting wizards.

What the fuck was going on here? This was Remus' territory…and although Eloise was not his mate, he had his heart invested in the muggle. No one else was going to court her as long as he had breath in his body.

Before he could stop himself, Remus snarled…and drew his wand.

* * *

A/N: Oh oh! Seems like the wolf is coming out in Mr. Lupin. ;) Thanks for reading. 


	14. Part 14

**A Song for Severus Part 14**

The werewolves all stared at Remus for a moment, before every man drew his own wand and leveled it at the lone wizard.

"Are you her mate, Lupin?" Gordon snarled back, his eyes slightly black-veined. It even looked like the wizard's hair was standing up slightly on his head like a ruff as he eyed Remus. Low growls sounded from the other werewolves as they faced off.

Remus looked over at Eloise who met his gaze directly. But she didn't say anything. Remus looked back at the men, all of whom had stepped away from the tables and held their wands on him.

"No. Not yet," he said.

"Well then, if she isn't your bitch, Remus…then we have every right to be here. She can breed and we all want whelps," Gordon said.

Eloise listened to herself being discussed like a hunk of fertile meat. Her human side rebelled against this, but her werewolf side accepted it. Naturally she was a bit torn, but simply watched the men face off. This was how it was done in nature, and she was now a creature mostly ruled by nature.

"But I took her from Fenrir," Remus said, his eyes wild as he staked his claim, "That gives me first rights."

The wizards looked shocked at this information. Fenrir had Eloise first and Remus took her? How could this be? No one could beat Fenrir. He was the main Alpha male of their group.

They lowered their wands and gathered together in a group, every one of them looking pale and frightened. This lent another rather dangerous aspect to trying to claim Eloise. Fenrir could come at any time to take her back.

After about two minutes, they turned back to Remus.

"How did you get her, Remus?" Gordon asked, his eyes washing over Remus. He was no alpha dog.

"I lured her away with me when Fenrir was otherwise occupied," he said, his wand still pointed at the group.

Gordon stared at him incredulously.

"Fenrir is going to kill you," he said in a low, disbelieving voice, "Kill you and maybe Eloise as well if you've mated with her."

"He hasn't," Eloise said, walking forward.

The wizards all looked at her, their desire plain on their faces. But…Fenrir?

Gordon swallowed, then hesitated asking his next question. He needed to know.

"Has…has Fenrir had you?" the wizard asked her.

Now it was Eloise's turn to hesitate. Then the muggle decided to tell the truth.

"Yes, though it was against my will," she said, "The night of my first transformation."

Remus stared at the woman. He hadn't known Fenrir had taken her. Oh, the werewolf was definitely out for his blood. Even though Eloise had not claimed Fenrir as his mate, the werewolf had clearly claimed her.

Gordon and the others once again huddled up, talking in hushed tones and occasionally looking toward Eloise. Finally they broke apart and began walking away.

Remus lowered his wand.

Eloise ran forward.

"Wait…where are you going?" she called to the men. Gordon turned.

"You belong to Fenrir," he said, "No one here is willing to fight him for you, fertile or not."

"What? There are so many of you and only one Fenrir! If you fight together, you can beat him!" she cried, not believing how cowardly they all were.

Gordon shook his head.

"It's not worth it," he said shortly, then looked over at Remus, "You're a dead man. If I were you Remus, I'd leave the bitch to Fenrir. Maybe he'll spare you since you haven't touched her."

Remus simply looked at him and didn't reply. But Eloise did.

"I can't believe what fucking cowards you all are!" Eloise snarled at the retreating men, "He's only one man!"

Gordon simply shook his head, turned and followed the group. One by one they disapparated until only Remus, Eloise and Rubin remained. Rubin had his wand in his hand by his side. He was ready to help Remus if he had to battle the werewolves

Eloise threw up her hands in exasperation. She had thought she had the means to finally destroy Fenrir, but the werewolves had all run, their tails tucked between their legs…all except Remus, who still stood there silently, looking at her.

He might not be a dominant dog…but he was no coward either. She was certain there had been some alpha males in that group, but not one man was willing to champion her. Remus hadn't said he would, but he hadn't said he wouldn't either. Actually, the way he was willing to fight all those men for her showed he had a lot more backbone than she'd given him credit for.

"They're gone now, but if you go into heat, Eloise and they get a whiff of it…they will be back. They won't be able to help themselves. Nature will take over and they won't give a damn about Fenrir or Remus.

Eloise's brown eyes flashed angrily.

"I won't accept any of them," she hissed, "They've already shown me they are…are…unworthy.

As a muggle, Eloise would never have coined that turn of phrase. But now, in this strange world…in this strange situation…the word was an apt description. She turned her eyes on Remus, who walked over to the table and sat down heavily.

He hadn't known Fenrir had sex with Eloise. He wasn't jealous, but still it was a shock to him. Eloise walked over to the table and sat down, gazing at the werewolf, who kept his eyes downcast.

"Are you going to abandon me too, Remus?" she asked him softly, "Run away like the rest of them, afraid of Fenrir?"

Remus looked up at her, his eyes hard.

"If I were afraid of Fenrir, I would never have lured you away in the first place," the wizard said angrily, "But since you had sex with him…"

"I didn't do it willingly! He had my scratches all over his face the next morning. I fought him. He forced himself on me, Remus. I didn't want him. He's disgusting," she snapped at the wizard.

"That may be true, but you don't want me either," Remus replied, "I'm not strong enough for you."

Rubin began to saunter toward his farmhouse. The two werewolves had to be alone to discuss this. Personally, he thought Remus had more than enough courage to be Eloise's mate, even if his nature wasn't dominant. Maybe the woman in her would see that, if the werewolf in her didn't.

Eloise stared at Remus in silence. She was becoming more aware of what happened during her transformations since she accepted the change. Fenrir was right. Acceptance was the key to living as a werewolf, but Remus never could accept his condition and felt the wolfsbane potion was what kept him lucid. He was afraid his animal part would take him over without the potion. What Remus didn't realize was that the wolfsbane potion also made him a submissive werewolf because it hindered his natural development in creature form.

In other words, Remus Lupin did have it in him to be an alpha dog. What had happened today was that his territorial instinct overrode his reluctance to act like an animal, and the real wolf in him came out. The wizard's desire for Eloise had released his natural inclinations. He would have fought to the death if the situation had elevated.

"Well, after seeing the rest of those…mutts, I think you might just be the strongest, Remus," Eloise said softly, "But whoever I choose to be with has to be strong enough to help me defeat Fenrir. I can't rest knowing he is still alive. He needs to die for doing this to me."

Remus sighed.

"Eloise, a lot of werewolves feel that way. Even I do. Fenrir bit me when I was a little child, purposely," the wizard said.

Eloise's eyes narrowed.

"Then why don't you avenge yourself? Why don't any of you avenge yourselves? You all live in fear, like frightened little puppies," she hissed at him.

"You don't know Fenrir. How vicious he is…" Remus began.

"So you are afraid, Remus," Eloise said disdainfully.

"I AM NOT AFRAID!" Remus roared at her, startling the muggle so badly she almost toppled over the bench, catching her balance at the last moment as the wizard's eyes turned almost completely black with veining and his face contorted into something unrecognizable. Shuddering, Remus gripped the edge of the table as he tried to wrest his rage under control. Slowly, it subsided, Remus slumping slightly before he looked at Eloise again.

"I'm…I'm sorry," he said softly, "it's just that…"

"Don't Remus. Don't say you're sorry for that," Eloise said. Her heart was still pounding at his display of anger. That was no submissive werewolf she had witnessed. Remus had it in him to kill.

Remus blinked at her as the muggle rose and walked around the table, sitting down next to him. Remus stiffened as she leaned into him, the scent of her so close arousing him. Eloise could smell the change in him…the desire her closeness evoked.

"Remus, help me to kill Fenrir. We can do it together. If you help me…I'll be your mate. I promise you," she said softly into his ear, her warm breath wafting over the delicate shell, "We can do it together if we plan carefully."

Remus let out a little whimper of longing and turned his head to look at her, meeting her brown eyes. Still he looked reluctant. Eloise decided to bring out the big guns. She followed her periods closely…

"Remus, my cycle is going to fall close to the full moon," she purred at him, "I was planning to lock myself in the cell alone when I go into heat…to keep from mating. If you give me your word you will help me when the time comes…I will let you stay with me. But…but I don't want to get pregnant. Not now."

Remus stared at Eloise. Did she say she would let him mate with her if he agreed to help her kill Fenrir? The wizard's nostrils flared as he smelled the slight scent of arousal from the muggle. Her body was reacting to her words. She wasn't lying to him.

"You will mate with me, Eloise?" he asked her.

"If you promise to help me kill Fenrir, Remus, I will do anything you want me to," the muggle woman replied, her eyes liquid, "But not until the full moon."

Remus studied her. He didn't just want to shag Eloise then go without her again. If he risked his life for her, she would have to offer him more than a night's mating.

"Eloise, as much as I want you, one night is not worth what you are asking me to do. If I agree to try and kill Fenrir, you have to become my mate…for life. A lifetime for a life, Eloise," the wizard said, his eyes sober.

Eloise thought about this.

"Remus, if we kill Fenrir, then I will be your mate for life. But only after he is dead. The time that we spend together during the full moon will cement our deal. Only Fenrir's death will seal it," she said to the werewolf, "Fenrir's death will prove you are wolf enough for me."

Remus nodded.

"Very well then, Eloise. I will help you kill Fenrir," the wizard breathed, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss her. Eloise slid back, a naughty smile on her face before she rose and walked back toward the barn.

"The full moon, wolf. That is when you'll get yours," she said over her shoulder.

Remus watched as she entered the charmed barn, pulling the door closed behind her, his hand falling to his lap reflexively as he throbbed with anticipation. He hadn't gotten his paws on a woman for some time.

It would be worth the risk to mate with a willing Eloise. Plus she would be unusually receptive, even before her transformation. He could count on a human encounter as well as a wolf encounter.

Remus swallowed several times, fighting back the urge to howl his happiness to the sky.

He failed.

In the farmhouse, Rubin stopped cooking to listen. That boy sounded happy about something.

In the barn, Eloise smirked as Remus' voice rose and fell, filling the air with sound, the cattle lowing nervously and chickens scattering.

She had her champion.

* * *

About two hours later, Hermione returned to Severus' study, raising the wall and entering…looking quite contrite.

Severus was sitting in front of the fireplace, dressed in his house robe, sipping a firewhiskey. An eyebrow arched as he heard the wall open, but other than that he made no motion to move. He heard Hermione slowly walking up behind him.

Hermione walked around the chairs and stood in front of Severus, the pensieve held in her hands like an offering. She blinked at him as he looked up at her.

"Has the Headmaster seen this, Severus?" the witch asked him in a quiet voice

Severus nodded.

"Three days after the incident. He wasn't as 'stand-offish' as you," the Potions Master replied.

Hermione stood there in silence a moment, then said, "I didn't realize Volaria came to you for help. I thought…"

Severus put his glass down, his black eyes narrowed slightly as he looked up at her.

"You thought I talked the witch into obliviating her brother," Severus finished for Hermione, "That wasn't the case. If anything, I would have tried to get her to kill him. Volaria came up with this idea by herself. Quite a brilliant idea with a more than satisfactory result for everyone involved. As you saw, she was quite adamant as to why I had to teach her the spell."

"Because I wouldn't listen to her warnings," Hermione said, setting the pensieve down on the small table next to the wizard, then wrapping her arms around herself.

A little chill went through her as she remembered how Voltaire so easily played both she and Albus.

"We only wanted to hear Voltaire's side. He manipulated us so easily," Hermione said, her voice quavering a bit.

Severus tried to warn her about this but she was too stubborn, too blind and so sure her way was the right way, she wouldn't listen to the older, more experienced wizard. But hell, Albus was all for it, and he was much older than Severus. Still that was no excuse. She should have at least considered his words.

Severus sighed.

"Yes. Gryffindors are quite gullible when it comes to the belief of the 'innate goodness' inherent in all human beings. A wonderful sentiment, but completely untrue," the Potions Master said softly. "And Albus was so steeped in guilt about Tom Riddle's outcome, he desperately wanted to rectify his perceived error by putting his son on the right path. But Voltaire was already on his path. There was no way to change it, Hermione. You changed his outside, but not what was in his heart. Voltaire was a manipulator, and because of your hope…you were easy to manipulate. Anyone with a more realistic view of the situation was pushed aside, in this case, Volaria and myself."

Hermione blinked at Severus, unable to say anything as he continued.

"When you looked at Voltaire, Hermione…you saw an individual who had been twisted into his role by another individual. Someone who was ruined by hatred, someone who you hoped to save. When I looked at Voltaire, all I saw were the thousands of people who would die because of him. One life is not worth thousands. I believed him better dead. But Volaria found a way to save both her brother and the wizarding world. Quite a brilliant little witch, wouldn't you agree?" he said to Hermione, who nodded.

"Yes. Yes she is," Hermione said.

"By the way, what have you and Albus done with Mr. Riddle?" Severus asked her curiously.

"He's been sent to a private location and is under the care of the healer who took care of him as an infant, Mr. Jordan McGuire. He escaped Bella's stronghold after her death and returned home. The headmaster contacted him and told him about Voltaire's situation and he came to visit him. Voltaire went wild and wouldn't let go of him the entire visit. So Jordan is being paid to care for him and bring him up to par. Voltaire is extremely bright. He should be set to rights in a couple of years. Volaria visits him regularly and will work with him too as far as his education goes. And he absolutely loves her. He calls her "Sissy," Hermione said with a small smile, "It's short for sister. Isn't that cute?"

The Potions Master made a face.

"Adorable," Severus said sarcastically, "Nothing like a seventeen-year-old former despot making baby talk. Does he drool too? What a joy that must be for Jordan. That and changing his nappies."

"No, he doesn't drool," Hermione snapped, "And he's making progress with potty training as well. Like I said, he's bright."

Severus looked at her then burst out laughing, Hermione scowling at him as he chuckled behind his hand. Severus had a beautiful, deep rich laugh, but Hermione found she didn't appreciate it at this point. Wiping his eyes, the wizard sobered.

"Now that you know I was right, and you and Albus were wrong and that I have been terribly, terribly mistreated and neglected by you, is there something you wish to say to me, witch?" the Potions Master asked her silkily.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Severus," Hermione said softly, "I should have listened to you. We both should have."

The wizard arched an eyebrow at her.

"That's it?" he asked her, "That's all you have to say to me? 'I'm sorry, Severus? What about my mistreatment? What about all the nights I spent alone…nights I should have been buried balls deep in your luscious little body and riding it to the gates of bliss? What about that, Hermione?'"

Hermione stared at him, the wizard's dark eyes fixed upon her face.

"I…I'll make it up to you, Severus," she said slowly.

Suddenly the wizard stood up and grasped Hermione by her wrist tightly, pulling her into him, Hermione gasping at his roughness. Severus looked down at her, his eyes hard.

"That you will witch…starting right now," he seethed, dragging her toward his bedroom.

Severus stalked into his bedroom, pulling Hermione behind him. He swung her around, the witch stumbling a little as she caught her balance. The wizard pulled her against him.

"Severus, there's no need…" she began, frowning up at him.

"Don't presume to tell me what my need is, Hermione," the wizard hissed at her, "I've missed you more than I can tell you. Watching you walk through the halls of Hogwarts treating me as if I didn't exist was torture. Pure torture. You have no idea what you put me through."

Hermione stared up at him, not knowing what to say.

"You belong with me…to me," the wizard said, his voice sounding strained, "I…I no longer feel whole without you. I no longer feel…"

Severus tightened his arms around Hermione and fell silent. She could feel the beating of his strong heart as he just held her. Suddenly, he shuddered powerfully.

"What have you done to me, witch?" Severus breathed, pulling Hermione back from him and looking down at her, "What kind of bewitchment have you cast on me?"

"I've…I've never cast any…" Hermione began.

"No, not a true hex, Hermione…though sometimes gods know I feel as if I am under a spell when it comes to you. Your bewitchment is something beyond magic. Something deeper, more powerful…addictive," the wizard said soberly. "It has the power to draw emotions out of me I never believed I had. Without you, I would fall back in upon myself, Hermione and I know if that ever happened, I would never rise again."

Hermione stared up at him, unable to speak as she saw love in the wizard's eyes. Severus began to lower his head to kiss her…then hesitated as if catching himself. Suddenly he released her, his nostrils flared as he reclaimed himself.

"Now that I have been driven by your absence to the point of near madness, evidenced by my spouting such a nauseatingly sweet homily concerning my weakness for you witch, I feel it is your turn to display just how sorry you are for your mistreatment of me. Something rather…sour and raw…to offset my own outpouring of…fluff," Severus said, his face twisted as if he had tasted something very disagreeable to him.

The only reason Hermione didn't smile was because she knew Severus wouldn't take it very well. He was trying to revert back to form, to reassert his usual snarky demeanor. Well, he might look and sound the part, but the witch knew that underneath all of his bluster, the wizard was irrevocably in love with her and had just expressed that love from his heart, no matter how hard he was trying to backpedal now.

"Something…sour? Raw?" she repeatedly huskily, her love for the wizard boiling over as she looked up at him.

Severus saw that familiar fire in her eyes. She was willing, more than willing to accommodate him.

"Yes, witch," he said, watching as Hermione hands moved to the tied sash of his house robe and began to undo it.

"I'll see what I can do," Hermione purred.

She had missed the wizard even when she was angry with him, and she wanted to make him wild for her, especially after the way he had opened up to her. She untied the sash, letting it drop and parted his robe. Severus' member sprung out, long, pale and hard as if it had been on a spring. It bounced a bit.

Hermione giggled. She couldn't help it. She didn't know the wizard had been naked under his house robe. Obviously, he expected her back…and on her back without much difficulty.

"You certainly believe in being prepared, Severus," she said.

The wizard snorted, poking her in the stomach with his tool impatiently.

"I've been prepared since last week," he said darkly, "My patience is wearing thin, witch. Get naked."

Hermione started unbuttoning her robes, then hesitated…looking up at Severus.

"You were wrong about Volaria too," Hermione said evenly, "I should get an apology for that."

Severus gave her a black scowl.

"I was not wrong about the witch. I said that she should be confined and watched until we could be sure about her motives, which she was," the Potions Master replied. "I was cautious, not manipulated and fooled as you and Albus were. I wasn't going to unleash a monster on the wizarding world."

Hermione thought he looked a bit smug.

"Besides, you didn't listen to the witch at all, Hermione. You said you trusted Miss Ruddle, but wouldn't listen to what she said about her brother. I didn't trust her, but I did listen to her and by doing that, discovered that her motives were indeed good and the witch earned my trust. I have no need to apologize to either you or the witch…but you…you do. You wanted her punished for what she did without caring as to why she did it, Hermione. Now you've seen the pensieve, seen what transpired between Miss Ruddle and her brother. It was just as she tried to tell you. If anyone should go to Miss Ruddle and admit being wrong, it's you."

Hermione dropped her head for a moment. Severus was right. Hermione had seen Volaria several times during the week and walked by her without saying a word, ignoring the little blonde witch's crestfallen face. Volaria looked up to Hermione and was quite sad that the witch no longer liked her. But she did what she had to do.

Maybe one day Hermione would understand that.

That day came sooner than expected.

"You're right Severus," Hermione said in a low voice, "I do need to apologize to Volaria."

Severus nodded, then said, "Yes you do.witch, but one apology at a time. Right now I should be your focus."

He poked her again for emphasis.

Hermione looked at him.

"I'll be right back," she said, walking toward the bathroom.

Severus frowned, then plopped down on the edge of the bed, watching her enter the bathroom. He heard her open his medicinal stores.

Hm. What was she doing?

Presently Hermione came out and looked at Severus sitting on the edge of the bed, his robe open, legs gapped and his slightly deflated erection sticking out. She had something in her hands. Two bottles. One was a colonic.

The other was oil.

Severus eyed the items as she sat them on the nightstand and his erection began to inflate again, going rigid, the foreskin seeming to slide back as he lengthened. He didn't say a word as he watched Hermione removed her clothing slowly in front of him, letting her robes dropped to the floor, pulling both her t-shirt and bra over her head, then unfastening her jeans, toeing off her trainers and socks, then lowering both jeans and knickers, stepping out of them and kicking everything out of the way.

Severus' eyes slowly traversed her body, starting on her face, which had a naughty expression on it, then over her neck, soft shoulders, large breasts, small waist, ample hips and juicy thighs. His gaze rested on the little furry triangle between her legs for a moment, then shifted back to her face, one pale hand going to his erection reflexively.

Hermione picked up the bottle of oil, opened it and let several drops fall on her upper chest, Severus' eyebrows arching in surprise before his eyes narrowed as the witch put the bottle back and smoothed the oil over her breasts so they glistened in the torchlight.

Severus made a sound in the back of his throat as her firm globes glistened, then licked his lips. Now this was new. He watched Hermione oil up her entire body until it gleamed. It was all he could do to stay seated when she turned around and rubbed the oil all over her plump buttocks, lifting each cheek and spreading oil in the cleft between them liberally.

"You're going to have a problem holding on to me," she said to him softly.

"I'll manage," he growled as she finally set the bottle of oil down, then picked up the colonic, opening it. Severus loved when Hermione's body was slick with sweat and his hands slipped over her curves as he grasped and caressed her.

The wizard watched as the witch drank the colonic down, her eyes going half-lidded at the pleasurable foaming sensation it caused inside her as it cleansed her. She set the bottle down and Severus was on his feet in an instant, ready to grab her.

"No, not yet, Severus…just another moment," she said to the wizard, whose face contorted for a second before he sat back down on the very edge of the bed this time.

Hermione then picked up the bottle of oil, turned around and widened her stance so Severus could see what she was doing clearly. Hermione poured the oil so it slid slowly between her cheeks, pulling one buttock away so the Potions Master could see it roll over her puckerhole and her vulva. She put the oil back on the nightstand.

Severus hissed as Hermione inserted a finger into her rectum to lubricate herself.

"You dirty little witch," Severus breathed, his nostrils flaring as Hermione penetrated herself with yet another finger, sighing as she thrust her small oil-covered digits in and out, stretching the tiny opening.

The witch had never done this before and the wizard belly was tight with lust and arousal. This was so different…so un-Hermione-like. Well, he wanted something sour and raw…it didn't necessarily mean something she had to do to him.

He liked this. He liked this very much.

"Another finger, witch," he hissed at her, openly masturbating now as he watched her shining buttocks wriggle, Hermione moaning softly and letting out a groan as she slipped another finger inside herself. Severus reached for the oil, his eyes locked to Hermione's thrusting fingers, then leaned forward, pouring more oil down her crack, his dark eyes glistening as her flesh puckered and tightened around her fingers. He watched for a moment then asked her with a slight crack in his voice, "Can you do four fingers, Hermione?"

Yes she could. She took Severus after all.

Hermione heard the Potions Master make a choked sound as she pushed a fourth finger inside, her rectum stretched enormously as she thrust, sounding as if she were being shagged.

"Dear gods," Severus muttered, throbbing as he watched the witch work her hand between her slick cheeks, "You are beyond desirable, Hermione. Look at that asshole stretch…Merlin….Merlin I want it wrapped around me."

Hermione wanted to bring him to the edge…and she was succeeding. Wanting to top it off, Hermione squatted, and placed one hand on the floor to keep her balance then raised her buttocks in the air. Severus' mouth dropped open as she inserted her thumb as well, all five fingers thrusting in and out of her tight, ready hole.

The wizard hissed and grasped the head of his swollen organ with some pressure, trying to keep from coming because of the erotic sight before him. He groaned, then leapt to his feet, striding over to Hermione, gripping her slippery waist with one hand and pressing himself between her cheeks, releasing hot come over her thrusting fingers, gasping with each delicious pulse, watching as his seed coated her hand, adding lubrication as she worked it into her asshole.

"You twisted little sexpot," he groaned, running the head of his deflating member between her cheeks as Hermione shuddered and had an orgasm of her own, her hand dropping away. When Severus realized she came, the wizard dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth to her core, drinking in her release and tasting his own as he swallowed it down thirstily, Hermione gasping with pleasure as his talented tongue collected every drop, her body shuddering around it.

After a minute or two, he pulled away, rising and licking his lips. Hermione turned to face him, her eyes hot and face flushed.

"Was that sour and raw enough for you?" she asked him softly.

Severus grabbed her and kissed her hungrily, passing the taste of their mingled fluid to her mouth, then lifting her and carrying the slick oily witch to his bed. His sheets were going to be a mess, but who cared? He dropped her in and roughly pulled her downward, then climbed in and straddled her belly, his deflated organ resting between her breasts for a moment.

"Quite raw," he said, his breathing heavy as he looked down at her glistening breasts. He ran his hands over their slickness, squeezing them appreciatively, flicking his thumbs over the puckered nipples, Hermione biting her lip with pleasure as he fondled her, then pushed her breasts together over his long, lank organ.

"I love the oil," he breathed, smoothing her skin as he thrust lightly, her firm flesh caressing him. He felt a throb in reaction. Then he hitched forward, catching hold of the headboard with one hand and letting the head of his flaccid tool rest against Hermione's lips.

"Suck me back to full swell," he demanded, "I don't want to want any longer than necessary to get at that bum. Gods, you are something, witch. Take me into your mouth."

Hermione opened her mouth and felt Severus' soft flesh enter it. It felt a bit strange. She was used to him stiff and hard when she did this, but immediately felt a pulse as her lips closed over him and she sucked, the wizard groaning as her hot mouth pulled at his soft flesh. He throbbed again.

It wouldn't be soft much longer.

His tool in Hermione's mouth, Severus slipped one hand under her head and worked it back and forth, still holding on to the headboard with his other hand, staring down at the witch, brimming over with lust. The Potions Master still couldn't believe what she did. It was the raunchiest, most arousing thing he had ever seen her do to herself, and he couldn't wait to get his own go at her because of it.

Hermione looked up at the wizard, feeling him harden as he worked her head back and forth, his eyes glittering as he swelled within her hot mouth.

"I'm boiling over, witch," he breathed down at her, "What you did…my gods…I have much more than a few fingers for you, you temptress. Watching you spread yourself the way you did…."

The wizard stopped talking and let out a growl as he became fully erect. This was the fastest he recovered in a long time.

"You certainly are getting better with your apologies, witch," he said withdrawing his swollen organ from Hermione's mouth and climbing off of her.

Severus stood up and removed his robe, letting it fall to the floor and baring his pale lean body before leaning down and kissing Hermione hungrily for a moment. then straightened and picked up the oil off the nightstand and poured a bit on his erection, rubbing it over the head and shaft as he stared down at the witch. He put the bottle back.

"Turn over and get on your knees…it's time to substitute something else for those randy little fingers," he said to her, tense with desire.

Hermione looked up at him a moment, the slowly rolled to her belly and pushed off with her hands like a cat doing a long, languorous stretch, her buttocks in the air.

"Mmmmm," Severus murmured as he watched her, once again picking up the bottle of oil and letting several drops fall on her plump buttocks before squeezing more between her cheeks. He put the bottle back and climbed into the bed behind her, positioning himself on his knees. Slowly, Severus rubbed the oil over her cheeks with both hands, smoothing it until both globes glistened.

Hermione purred like a kitten at the feel of those strong sure hands moving over her flesh. She wriggled a little, her buttocks jiggling, the wizard's eyes growing hotter.

"Circe," Severus breathed, running a finger down the well oiled split, then partially inserting his finger inside her, closing his eyes as he felt her tighten around him. He inserted another finger, Hermione groaning at the feel of his long digits…but it wasn't enough. Fingers couldn't replace the thickness he gave her when he took her this way.

"Severus," she groaned, her voice thick with lust, "Do it."

Severus stopped his thrusting motions.

"Do what, Hermione? Tell me what you want me to do to you, you little wanton," he said to her silkily, grasping the base of his organ in readiness.

"Bugger me," she hissed at him, Severus' mouth dropping open.

He had expected her to say "Do me," as she usually did, no matter where he was going to put his tool. It seemed tonight was not the night for the usual.

"Such nasty language, Hermione," he breathed, "I like it. And I like the sight of your plump little bum with my fingers knuckle deep in it. However…"

Severus withdrew his fingers. They were oily. Hermione sighed at the loss of them. She felt the wizard press one hand to the small of her back. Suddenly he slapped her bum just hard enough to make it sting, watching her flesh ripple from the contact

"You know what I like more? Doing just what you asked me to do, Hermione…shoving my monster of a wand inside your tight little puckerhole…right after I've made your plump little pillows a pretty shade of pink," he breathed as he began spanking the witch, alternating sides and the location of his blows, Hermione jerking under his pale hand.

"You were a naughty, headstrong little witch for not listening to me concerning Voltaire. Your goody-two-shoes attitude could have cost lives," he hissed at her,"then you cut me off again…after promising me you wouldn't do it anymore. You didn't think about that, did you witch? The promise you made me at the inn. The promise you broke within a few weeks at the first opportunity. So not only did you not listen to me, but you went back on your word to me. So you owe me another apology."

Severus brought his hand down hard on her cheek, the witch crying out and scrambling forward, scooting away from him. But there was no place to go. The Potions Master wrapped an arm around Hermione's slippery waist and dragged her back, lifting her hips so her buttocks were in penetration position.

"No, you can't get away from this witch, slippery as you are," he chuckled darkly, grasping his tool again, "Apology time, my dear."

Hermione groaned as Severus pressed against her rectum, then entered, forcing the tight walls apart, his delicious thickness filling her, the wizard hissing as he watched his organ bury itself halfway inside her, her sphincter muscles gripping his shaft securely.

"Yessssssss," he hissed, nestled securely between her soft cheeks. He pulled back and thrust into her deeper, Hermione letting out a beautiful sobbing cry.

"Much more than fingers, eh witch?" the wizard crooned, gripping her buttocks and pushing them together, stimulating him even more as he began to spear her over and over, the oil making her slick and his penetration easy and delicious. Ooh, she was so tight, caressing his length repeatedly as he possessed Hermione.

He gripped the soft, pliant flesh of her buttocks, both hands full of her roundness as he took his pleasure, bucking into the witch faster and harder, Hermione gasping.

"You like this? You like it witch? You like me reaming you? Tell me!" Severus demanded.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, do it Severus…do it, baby," Hermione groaned back at him.

Severus loved when Hermione went muggle on him, calling him "baby" or even "daddy.". He was hardly that, but when she did it, he knew she was lost to him. There was nothing baby-like or father-like about the way he took her body like it was his own. And it was his own as far as he was concerned.

Severus slammed into her hard, burying himself to the hilt, the witch shrieking his name and shuddering around his stiff member as he adjusted his grip, grabbing both of Hermione's shoulders and drawing her back into his thrust, taking her even more powerfully. Gods, this was good. He had buggered her before, but the preliminaries made this so much more than ordinary.

Hermione was indeed lost to the wizard, his penetration and loins bumping against her buttocks lifting her higher and higher as he filled her to capacity, that thick, long extension completing her even as it ravaged her. Her body jerking, her core throbbing, Hermione began a low keen that grew shriller as Severus poured the power on, hissing and grunting as he brought her to the edge.

"Yes…you little vixen…come for me! Let your flow…go," he groaned, his fingers digging into her slick flesh, his hips almost blurring as he tore into her tightness, his face contorted and sweat pouring down his pale body, splashing on Hermione as he brought her to her peak.

Severus hissed as he felt her orgasm, the tightening different but just as satisfying. Hermione squealed, shooting outward, rising to a crescendo of bliss, then tumbling back, Severus crooning at her as she cried out in ecstasy. But the wizard was nowhere near done with her as he withdrew, roughly flipping Hermione to her back and pushing at her hips, doubling the witch over so her bum was high and accessible. He mounted her again, raised up on his hands, driving downward and penetrating Hermione with a growl, delving so deep his scrotum rested against her buttocks momentarily before he began taking her again, possessing the witch with abandon.

"Oh…oh…Severus! Severus!" Hermione cried out as he tore into her, sweat dropping from his body and sliding off her oiled skin.

"I'm here, I'm here, Hermione," he panted, laying wand to the witch with all his might. Dear gods, this was so much more than he expected as she received him, "Stay with me, witch…you sweet succubus, you wanton little minx! Open…open…take me. I love you witch. I love you!"

Hermione sobbed from his strength and his words as Severus covered her mouth with a searing kiss, his pale hips rising and falling like an overpowering tide, his possession powerful and driven, his tongue hot and hungry as he scoured her mouth, tasting her and swallowing that taste down, absorbing it, making it a part of him as his emotion took him over.

This was more than an apology, this was much more. He could feel Hermione's body and soul becoming one with his own. He could feel her love in her acceptance, taste it, scent it, hear it as her body enveloped him, drew him in, clutching and throbbing around his rod of iron. Hermione took him because she loved him. How could he not love her in return?

The wizard let out a groan as he felt himself drawing close to release. He pulled back from her mouth.

"Only you," he hissed down at the witch, his belly tightening as pleasure raced up his spine, "Only you Hermione Granger for the rest of my life!"

He then exploded, filling her tightness with his release, slipping and sliding through her tight sleeve, his dark eyes locked to her face as Hermione screeched, following him once more into bliss, pulse for pulse, release for release, connection for connection.

Severus slammed into the witch, his loins pressed tight against the curve of her buttocks, clutching her close, breathing passionate, loving and obscene words as he let go, Hermione trembling underneath him, his silken voice filling her heart as much as his climax filled her body. She shuddered, caressing his head as it dropped, Severus' face resting in her damp hair as he began to deflate inside her, groaning softly.

Hermione was still doubled over and the wizard slowly withdrew, falling to the side and allowing her to unroll as he panted, spent and satisfied with their loving, his face still buried in her hair.

"Exquisite," he breathed softly, his lips pressing against her temple appreciatively, "Simply and unequivocally exquisite. You are absolved, Hermione."

Panting, Hermione pulled her head back so she could see his face.

"I would think so," she breathed, then kissed Severus softly on his lips.

The wizard's black eyes met hers, fully aware he had at last said the words he had avoided saying for more than two years. He didn't want her to think the words were simply said out of passion.

"I love you, Hermione Granger," the wizard said, brushing back her tangle of hair, "And I don't expect you to take advantage of the fact."

Even when being totally honest, Severus couldn't help trying to keep his snark factor up.

"Never," Hermione said to him softly.

The wizard looked at her, clearly not believing the witch smiling at him.

He was right not to.

Severus knew Hermione wasn't being truthful to him when she told him she wouldn't take advantage of him loving her. She didn't go directly back to university like she threatened but continued to work on Albus' pet projects.

Sometimes Hermione would come up to Severus' lab with a difficult problem, and since his confession Severus tried to maintain some sense of self with the witch and not act as if he were kowtowing to her every wish. He didn't have a problem with kowtowing before he told her he loved her, but…that's a man for you.

"You're a brilliant witch, Hermione, figure it out. Why are you coming to me when you know I have my own work to do?" he'd asked her, nostrils flared as he chopped potions ingredients. He could hardly get into the lab to do anything as it was because of Bartholomew and he didn't need Hermione milking up his time.

"Because you looooove me," Hermione would croon at him, smiling broadly.

"Quiet witch!" Severus would bark at her, "You don't have to announce it to the whole school!"

Then he'd help her.

Sometimes that "because you looooove me" line backfired on Hermione and she soon learned she had to be careful where she said it and in what situation.

She pulled it on him one evening in his study after she and the Potions Master had an argument over some insignificant potions fact and Hermione won.

"I don't know why I even bother trying to get through to you sometimes, Hermione," Severus said, scowling.

"You do it because you loooove me," Hermione teased.

Severus looked at her for several moments, still rather miffed that she had verbally outmaneuvered him. Suddenly the wizard rose from his chair, grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled Hermione towards his bedroom, one hand already working on his robes fasteners.

"It's not all love, witch," he snarled at her, slinging Hermione into the bed, "Trust me when I say there is a fair amount of lust involved."

Then after wrestling the witch out of her robes, he proceeded to shag the shit out of her.

Afterwards, when they were both lying on their backs, soaked and panting, Severus turned his face towards Hermione and gasped, "Remember, I did that because I loooove you."

Hermione was too exhausted to slap him with the pillow.

* * *

Hermione found Volaria and apologized for not believing her when she tried to tell both her and Albus that her brother was evil. Volaria looked at her in silence for several moments, her blue eyes cool. She told Hermione it was okay, then walked away, her robes billowing slightly. The young witch reminded her of Severus for a moment before she rounded the corner and disappeared.

When Hermione told Severus about it, he simply said, "Give the witch time, Hermione. Remember, you turned away from her because she did the right thing. That hurt her. Hurt takes time to get over. Apparently Miss Ruddle is honest enough about her feelings not to act as if she has forgiven you when she hasn't or at least not completely. Besides, you are not as important to her as you were, Hermione. She depended on you, but now she has her own life, friends, family and a destiny to fulfill."

His words stung Hermione a bit, but she realized the wizard was right. Volaria was free now and trying to find her own place in the world. Hermione might have remained an important part of it, but she made a mistake. Mistakes had to be paid for.

* * *

About six days before the full moon, Eloise got her period and a nasty case of cramps to go with it. Rubin gave her a weak pain potion to deal with the worst of them, but didn't want to give her anything stronger that could affect her cycle. Eloise was snappish and bad-tempered. It didn't help that Remus had begun coming to Rubin's farm every evening to see her.

Eloise was quite stand-offish since she felt the werewolf was sniffing around in anticipation of her going into heat. Finally, she told him to get away and stay away, stalking off to the barn.

As Remus sat sulking at the outside table after Eloise slammed the barn door on him, Rubin sauntered up and sat down across from him, pushing his hat back a bit as he studied the werewolf.

"You know it's that time of month for her, Remus. You're lucky she's not a witch or you would be hexed, my boy, and hexed good," the farmer said, "Women can be very volatile when they're waving the red flag."

Remus looked at him.

"But…but shouldn't she be more…more attracted towards me now?" he asked the wizard.

Rubin was very familiar with female cycles because of his animals.

"No, right now she's cranky. Towards the end she'll be…er…nicer," Rubin replied.

"How long is it going to take?" Remus asked him, looking back at the barn with longing eyes.

"Not sure. A few days. But you'll know. We'll both know," Rubin said, his own eyes twisting toward the barn now.

"How will you know?" the werewolf asked the farmer, his brow furrowed.

"Well…I'm a male. No doubt I will attract her a bit…hopefully not too much. Hopefully she'll want a werewolf…otherwise I'm going to have be sealed up tight inside the farmhouse until you set her straight," Rubin said, reddening a bit.

Remus felt a little jealous throb in his belly as he looked at the elderly, stout farmer, his eyes going just a tad black-veined. Rubin scowled at him.

"Get those territorial instincts back in line, boy. I'm not interested in Eloise that way. You should know better," the wizard snapped, his eyes going hard.

Remus' eyes returned to normal and he looked a bit shamefaced.

"I'm sorry Rubin…I'm all on edge about this," Remus said softly.

Rubin's face lost its hard look.

"I understand son. Well in a few days it will all be set right, although this will probably happen next month as well, and maybe the month after too. It takes a little time for the cycles to change. Her periods will occur close enough to the full moon to put her in heat again," Rubin said, looking thoughtful.

"You might be able to use that knowledge," the farmer said.

Remus looked at him.

"Use it for what?" Remus asked the wizard.

"I know what Eloise wants, Remus," Rubin said, "She talks about it almost every day. Not in depth, but she makes references and sometimes just stares across the fields with a hard look in her eyes. She wants Fenrir dead…and she wants you to kill him or help her kill him. You've got to make a plan boy. That werewolf is going to show up here sooner or later. I'm thinking sooner because he no longer has the Death Eaters, and can't show his muzzle in the village. Werewolves are social animals. Yes, they can be loners but they need company from time to time. You can use Eloise to draw him out."

Remus stared at him.

"How?" Remus asked.

"I've thought about that. We'll need to…" Rubin began.

"We? You want in on this Rubin?" Remus asked him in amazement.

Rubin's face contorted.

"That bastard turned my son. If not for Fenrir, my boy would still be alive, probably working this farm instead of me. It's time for some payback, Remus. I owe that werewolf," Rubin said solemnly.

"You, me and a lot of others," the werewolf agreed.

"Yes, but only three people have the heart to take him on. That's you, me and Eloise," the farmer said, "But most likely Eloise will not be in a state to fight if she's in heat. No matter how much she hates Fenrir, he will appear as a dominant male and attract her. Her animal instincts will be in effect."

A low growl escaped Remus' throat. The idea of Eloise willingly mating with Fenrir rubbed his fur the wrong way…though he had no fur at the moment.

"What were you going to suggest, Rubin?" the wizard asked, his jaw set.

"I was going to say that we need to collect Eloise's menstrual pads and distribute them for miles around. One pad can be scented for miles. Any werewolf that scents it will be drawn here," the farmer said.

Remus frowned.

"But that means the werewolves in the village will come too," the wizard said.

"Yes, there is that. But Fenrir will drive them away or at least back if he's among them. I have an idea that will allow that, and get you access to him without the other werewolves becoming involved. But it will require timing and Eloise will have to be present to lure him in…" the wizard said.

Remus looked extremely interested.

"Tell me more," he said.

Rubin stood up and walked out into the barnyard, followed by Remus. The farmer picked up a stick, crouched and began drawing in the dirt, the wizard watching closely.

* * *

Fenrir paced back and forth restlessly in his cave. He had a close call earlier when he visited a farm seeking to steal something to eat. As he watched he saw several Aurors leave the farmhouse, obviously searching for him. They were too close. Fenrir managed to escape without being seen, and caught himself a rabbit on the way back to the cave.

He felt he was going mad. He didn't have the Death Eater meetings or revels to attend, and the werewolf village was closely being watched. He had no doubt that even if he did manage to slip into it, someone would inform on him. They were all domesticated dogs for the wizarding world, every one of them.

Fenrir snarled. He had planned to visit Rubin's farm during the full moon, but now felt it would be wiser to wait. He was lonely and miserable. He wanted Eloise back. Badly. Even if she was sterilized, he wanted her. He needed a companion. The feisty muggle would be perfect. He could still mate with her after all.

He could have tried showing up during the day, but with the Aurors searching for him and Remus' magical skills as a wizard, it wouldn't be the smart thing to do. Remus was a match for him with a wand. He needed the bastard transformed so he could do him in. He couldn't use magic then.

"Fucking Lupin," he growled, picking up a stone and hurling it into the cave wall so powerfully, it shattered, "You're going to pay for this. I swear it."

Magic swirled around the werewolf as his oath took hold.

* * *

Eloise's menstrual cycle wound down a day before the full moon, and the muggle was edgy. When she exited the barn that morning, she found Rubin carrying water to the trough for his animals. While he could have used magic to fill the trough, he believed he benefited from physical labor. It kept him sharp and strong.

Eloise froze when she saw the wizard, her eyes narrowing a bit before she walked up behind him silently as he poured one bucket into the trough, then the other. Then he turned and found himself standing face to face with Eloise, the muggle's eyes slightly veined. She was uncomfortably close.

"Er…good morning, Eloise," the farmer said, easing to the side so as not to be standing directly in front of her. The woman's breasts were almost poking him in the chest.

Eloise stepped over too, blocking him again.

"Good morning, Rubin," she purred at him.

Rubin blinked at her. Shit. Eloise was in heat.

"I…I need to fetch more water," the wizard said, starting to walk away quickly. He wasn't walking toward the water pump however, he was heading to his werewolf-proof house.

He was almost there when Eloise landed in front of him. She had leapt over his head to stop him from entering the farmhouse, and now began to walk forward, her hips swinging sexily as she approached the worried farmer. She looked predatory as she backed him up.

"Now…now Eloise…you don't know what you're doing, woman," Rubin said, holding out his hands in front of him as if trying to hold her back.

Eloise clearly was going to walk breast-first into his palms, so the farmer lowered his hands and kept backing up, stopping when the back of his legs hit the wooden table in the yard.

Eloise continued to approach him. Rubin didn't want to draw his wand on the muggle. She couldn't help what she was feeling, but he couldn't let her lose control. He slipped his hand into his pocket, grasping his wand as Eloise moved into his personal space. If she touched him in an intimate manner, he would be forced to stun her.

Eloise stopped, her eyes searching Rubin's face. She didn't like the nervousness she could see and scent. She leaned toward the wizard's face and began sniffing him, eventually snuffling his whole body, dropping down and almost pressing her face into his groin as she examined him for suitability. Rubin stood stiff as a board, praying Remus didn't pop in at this point. It didn't look too good and he might have to hex two werewolves instead of one.

Eloise stood up and stepped back from the farmer

"You're not what I want," she breathed at Rubin, disappointment in her eyes, "You're not a werewolf. I need a werewolf."

Rubin pushed his straw hat back and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand, sighing with relief as Eloise let him off the hook.

"No, Eloise…I'm not a werewolf. I'm all human, but Remus will be here soon," he said gently, "Go back to the barn and wait for him. I'll bring you a steak."

Eloise took one more sniff of the farmer as if to make sure he wouldn't do.

"All right," she said shortly, turning and walking back to the barn with a very seductive walk, her buttocks shifting beneath her jeans.

Rubin shook his head as he watched her enter the barn. Thank the gods she realized he wasn't a suitable mate. Rubin felt fatherly toward the muggle…it would have been horrible if she had initiated something physical between them. Rubin liked older, plumper witches, the strong kind. His own wife had been a full-figured woman and not afraid of hard work. He sighed. He missed his wife. She died shortly after his son did…from grief. Yet another reason to kill Fenrir.

Rubin walked over to one of the iron posts and pulled out his wand, flicking it. Suddenly the silver fencing unrolled itself around the area, the silver mesh covering weaving itself on top. He didn't need any werewolves suddenly showing up, scenting Eloise and descending on his farm. When Remus arrived, he would let him in, then reseal the gate.

If what he just experienced with Eloise was any indication, Rubin believed Remus was going to be in for quite a workout.

* * *

Rubin was in the house, hand-sewing a shirt. He wasn't repairing it. He was running silver threading through the fabric. He was going to need that shirt. That and a lot of luck. He paused when he heard the sound of apparition outside, quickly put the shirt down and hurried to the door.

He opened it to find Remus standing outside of the silver fencing, his eyes wild as he paced the perimeter, walking back and forth. He saw Rubin.

"Let me in!" the wizard cried, "I've got to get in, Rubin!"

Remus could smell Eloise, even though he wasn't in his werewolf form. Every sense in his body was straining toward the muggle. He could hardly think he was so aroused. Rubin walked up to the gate.

"Remus…Remus, listen to me. You can't just go charging into the barn like a troll. You have to bring her something," the farmer said.

"I intend to," Remus breathed, his robes tented expansively and his eyes locked on the barn.

Rubin shook his head.

"No boy. A gift. Some steaks. Let her eat first," Rubin chided him, "You have to take your time. She's in heat, but she's still an alpha. You might have some work to do before she'll accept you. It's better to approach her this way. You do want to…want to engage her don't you?"

"Yessssss," Remus hissed, his eyes finally turning back on the farmer.

"Then listen to me," Rubin said, "Now step back while I pull the fencing back for you.

Remus stepped away from the fence and Rubin pulled out his wand and made a section of the fencing roll back. Remus darted through and the farmer closed the fencing back, sealing it with his signature.

Remus started slowly walking toward the barn.

"No! Remus! The steaks first," Rubin called to him.

Remus reluctantly stopped and walked toward the house, looking back at the barn longingly.

"Now you wait here until I sear the steaks. It won't take but a minute or two," the farmer said, walking into the house.

Remus turned and watched the barn rather than the house. He hoped Rubin would hurry. If he didn't get to Eloise soon, he was going to explode.

* * *

Eloise was standing inside the open cage before the mirror, running her hands up and down her arms, caressing herself. Slowly she ran her hands around her neck, smoothing her own flesh and letting out a whimper. She needed other hands on her skin, masculine hands. The muggle suddenly stiffened and turned quickly.

She smelled a male. It wasn't Rubin either. There was a distinctly animal scent that accompanied the human one.

A werewolf was outside.

Remus. It had to be Remus. Even if it wasn't…

Eloise exited the cage and cracked the barn door open, peeking out. Remus was staring at the door, his whole body going tense as he saw it open slightly.

"Eloise," he said hoarsely as the muggle opened the door and walked out. She stopped and they stared at each other.

Remus started to walk toward her quickly, but Eloise frowned at him blackly and he stopped, quivering. It felt as if his blood was boiling in his veins.

'Don't be angry, Eloise," he said softly, "I mean no disrespect."

Eloise wasn't angry…she was randy…extremely randy. But part of her wouldn't let her just throw herself at the werewolf. Suddenly the farmhouse door opened and Rubin walked out with four thick steaks on a platter, sitting in a pool of blood and a handful of napkins. Eloise licked her lips as she smelled the slightly seared meat.

"Remus, come get this," Rubin said, not leaving the porch.

Remus looked back at him then quickly walked over and took the platter and napkins from Rubin, then slowly walked toward the outside table. Looking at Eloise, he placed the platter down, pushing it to the other side of the table. It was clearly an offering.

Eloise looked at the meat, then at Remus. Walking sexily, she moved to the table and sat down, picking up a steak in her bare hands and tearing into it. Remus slowly and carefully sat down, watching as the woman ate voraciously.

Rubin nodded, then went back into the house. Well, he helped the boy get started. It was up to him now. He hoped it wouldn't be too rough on the both of them. In their human forms werewolves could get quite…violent when it came to intercourse. It was the nature of the beast. It was much better if both partners were werewolves. A human who found his or herself in an intimate situation could have a rough time of it. Particularly females. A few turnings were the result of such pairings, where the cursed partner actually bit the other in the midst of passion. This happened more to men than to women however.

Neither Remus nor Eloise had to worry about that scenario.

Remus watched as Eloise consumed two and a half steaks, blood running down her chin and into the neck of her shirt. For most men this would have been a turn-off, but not for Remus. He consumed his food in the same manner when it was close to transformation time. Finally the woman sighed, picked up a few napkins and started cleaning herself off. Remus would have loved to lick every drop of blood from her skin.

Eloise placed the crumpled, bloody napkins on the table and leveled her brown eyes on Remus expectantly. The wizard stared back at her for a few moments before he realized she expected him to say something.

"I…I've come up with a plan, Eloise," Remus said softly to the muggle, who cocked her head at him in a rather canine-like manner. Her nostrils pulsated as she scented him, but she didn't say anything.

"A plan to kill Fenrir. It isn't a sure thing…and I will have to face him alone, well, not totally alone. Rubin has agreed to help me," the wizard said.

Eloise frowned slightly.

"What about me?" she asked in a low, husky voice that shot right to Remus' groin. He fought back a whine, "I want my pound of flesh too."

"I'm afraid that you will go back into heat next month as well, Eloise. You won't be in any state to kill him. Your mating instinct will be too strong. It will override even your hatred for him. But you will take part. You will be used to lure him here and he will be locked in with us," Remus explained, "Then I will challenge him for you."

"He's much stronger than you are in his werewolf form, Remus," she said softly, her eyes washing over him, "Even with Rubin helping you, you might not be able to beat him."

"I know that, but I want you for my mate, Eloise I would rather die trying to win you than to live without you," the wizard breathed.

Eloise studied Remus. He was no alpha, but was willing to lay down his life for a chance to have her. He was courageous. The most courageous wolf he had met to date. She growled in the back of her throat then slowly rose, Remus tensing as she stepped over the bench and walked around to his side of the table. He sat very still as Eloise lowered her face and sniffed the side of his head, then moved lower to his throat. He trembled and closed his eyes as she licked his Adam's apple. She raised her head and looked into his face

"You smell and taste good," she purred, "but are you strong? My mate has to be strong."

"Yesssss," Remus replied with a groan, his eyes still closed, "I am strong, Eloise. I can satisfy you. Accept me."

Remus' eyes snapped open and they were black-veined as he looked at the muggle, his desire taking him over.

"Accept me, Eloise. I would die for you," he said with a soft growl, "No other is willing to die for you. Even Fenrir only wants you because he feels he is the strongest of us. If he knew his life was in the balance, he too would abandon you. I wouldn't, even if I had to face an army of Fenrirs."

Eloise straightened, and Remus, encouraged, stood up and stepped over the bench, facing her.

"I am your champion and will avenge you with my last ounce of blood. Be kind, Eloise," he said to her, a small whine escaping him.

The muggle looked at the wizard, then turned and walked back toward the barn, Remus' eyes firmly planted on her hips as she walked away from him. Was she rejecting him after all he had told her? Eloise opened the barn door, then looked over her shoulder at him.

"Are you coming, champion?" she called back to him.

"Yes. Yes!" Remus said, following quickly as Eloise disappeared through the doorway.

Watching from the window, Rubin smiled and drew the curtain back, walking back over to the chair in the parlor, sitting down and picking up the shirt he was working on. It seemed the two had hit it off. He threaded the needle with a thin strand of silver and began sewing. He planned to work a lot of silver in.

The farmer was going to need it. He was also going to need something else from Remus. His nose wrinkled at the thought of it.

Ah, well…it had to be done if he was going to be of any help.

* * *

Remus entered the barn to find Eloise standing before the cage. His eyes flickered toward her full-sized bed. It wasn't large enough. He wanted room to maneuver. The wizard pulled out his wand and pointed it at her bed.

"Engorgio," he breathed, the bed expanding, knocking over the nightstand next to it as it filled a quarter of the cage. Eloise looked at it, then at Remus scowling.

"You didn't ask me if you could enlarge my bed!" she snarled at him.

"I didn't think I had to," Remus growled back at her, "I didn't want us falling off."

"You haven't gotten me there yet, wolf," Eloise snapped back at him.

"But I will," Remus said, his eyes beginning to vein again, "You've accepted me."

Eloise made a little noise, something between a whine and a growl.

"Yes, I've accepted you Remus…but you still have to take me," she said, her stance becoming defensive, yet alluring to the wizard. Tempting. Maddening. Remus began unfastening his robes, the scent of the woman once again taking over his senses and slowly, his human reasoning.

"I will take you," he said, his eyes hard with lust as he shrugged off his robes, then toed off his shoes.

He wore no socks and only a pair of scarlet boxers beneath his robes, which were tented enormously. Remus' body was lean and tight. He had a bit of brown curling hair on his chest and under his navel. His musculature was clearly defined, his joints sharp.

Eloise's eyes washed over him. Remus was quite sexy, especially all tense as he was. He was packing some weight as well by the way his boxers were riding up. She could smell him strongly now, male and aroused. She wanted to feel him on her.

Remus lowered himself taking an offensive stance, remembering how Eloise said she had marked Fenrir. But she had been in werewolf form. She wouldn't be able to do that much damage to him as a woman, or perhaps she wouldn't be too violent because unlike Fenrir, he was appealing to her. But he had to show her he could handle her. Alpha or not.

"Are you afraid of me, Remus?" Eloise said tauntingly, her hands crooked in readiness to grab and scratch.

"No. I couldn't be afraid of a bitch I want so much," he replied, lifting his lips and baring his teeth a bit as he began to sway back and forth, inching toward Eloise, trying to decide how to grab her with the least amount of damage. He couldn't hit her. He would have to overpower and subdue her, hold her without injuring her until she admitted he was stronger and worthy to mate with her.

Knowing Eloise, that could take some doing.

As Remus swayed, Eloise couldn't help but admire the determined hungry look in his eyes. He meant to have her. Maybe…maybe she wouldn't fight too hard. She wished he'd make his move.

"Seems like you have a bit of the bitch in you, Remus," she goaded him.

Remus snarled and charged her, Eloise meeting him, the wizard catching hold of her wrists and raising her arms over her head so she couldn't grab or claw him. They strained against each other, chest to chest, growling menacingly, Remus very aware of Eloise's breasts against him.

Both werewolves were almost overpowered by the scent of the other. Eloise was strong, but Remus was stronger and let her struggle until he felt her relax to draw another breath, then he quickly released one of her arms and spun her quickly, pulling her back against his body and wrapping an arm around her throat. She pulled at his arm and kicked back but Remus spread his stance so she couldn't connect. He pressed his body against her, and licked her throat gently, then snuffled her neck loudly.

Eloise shuddered at the soft, wet caress of his tongue on her neck and the feel of his firm body pressed against her back, his erection huge against her buttocks.

"I've got you, Eloise. You can't escape me," he breathed in her ear, "I am stronger than you. Give in. You want me. I can feel it…smell it. Even your skin tastes like sex."

Eloise suddenly tried to bend forward, jerking strongly, hoping to flip Remus over her back, but the wizard had anticipated this and grounded himself so she couldn't budge him.

"I have you," Remus said again, beginning to rub himself against Eloise's buttocks sensually, letting out a low growl of lust, "Can you feel me? Do you have any idea what's going to happen when I get my paws on you, mate?"

Eloise let out a shuddering breath as Remus moved against her, sounding so dominant, so promising. He sounded more and more like an alpha male. Again, she had no way of knowing that Remus' animal responses were overriding the wolfsbane potion he drugged himself with every month. He had never had a bitch to respond to, and she was drawing his natural inclinations out. He was surprising himself as well. He had never addressed any woman like he was doing to Eloise. But then again, he had never had to struggle with a witch in order to bed her.

Remus began to kiss and lick her throat in earnest, feeling Eloise begin to press back into his loins as his heat ignited her. Gods, it was like she was being immersed in fire and she turned into him, the wizard's arm relaxing, and kissed him hungrily, pressing into his body urgently. Remus could smell her readiness, his head tilting back as Eloise began sniffing him all over as she did Rubin, tonguing his throat and chest a bit, tasting his skin as he released her and let her explore him. She moved over his belly, her tongue tickling him as it flicked against his skin, then the muggle knelt fully, sniffing the tent in his boxers and growling before yanking them down to examine his swollen member.

Remus was huge like most werewolves, the red head of his erection leaking as it peeked from the folds of his foreskin. The wizard looked down at the woman poised before his organ, sniffing it and licking it experimentally as he shuddered. Remus jerked as Eloise lightly gripped his shaft and pulled back the foreskin, the male scent of his arousal nearly inebriating her. She began to lick his sensitive head, Remus' hands clenching by his side, his head falling back as her tongue ran over his length and down to his scrotum, the muggle bathing him, small whimpers of desire accompanying her ministrations. Finally, Eloise drew in a long, drawn out sniff and looked up at him, her eyes black-veined and starved.

Oh yes…he was definitely accepted.

* * *

A/N: Looks like this couple is about to have a howling good time. lol. Thanks for reading. 


	15. Part 15

**A Song for Severus Part 15**

Eloise tugged Remus' boxers all the way down to his ankles, and the werewolf stepped out of them, his own eyes black-veined as the woman stood up facing him.

"Go into the cage and undress," Remus growled at her.

Eloise's eyes raked over him, halting on his erect organ for a moment before she turned and walked into the cage, beginning to unbutton her shirt. Remus walked over by his robes and picked his wand up off the floor, then entered the cage, striding up to Eloise as she was pulling open her shirt and backing her against the bars roughly, the muggle gasping as he pressed his nude body against hers.

"Contraceptive spell," Remus managed to say in a somewhat garbled voice, shifting slightly and pressing the tip of his wand beneath Eloise's navel. He had to force himself to think of the proper incantation before he whispered it. Eloise felt something turn over inside her.

"Protected," Remus growled, dropping his wand and beginning to pull her shirt off her rather roughly, pulling her away from the bars and turning her around as he slid it down her arms.

Eloise closed her eyes as she felt Remus' impatient hands pull at the button of her jeans and unzip her zipper, panting as he pulled them open, then dropping tugging them down over her thighs. The woman shuddered as she felt him take a long lick on her right leg, then heard him let out a high pitched whine of excitement, then an aggravated growl. Suddenly she was lifted bodily and tossed into the bed, her jeans still on.

"Damn boots," Remus hissed, tugged first at one then the other. He couldn't get her jeans off because of them. He looked as if it wanted to rip the footwear to bits. He dropped the boots then slid her jeans off her body. Now Eloise was clad only in her knickers and bra, resting on her elbows as she looked up at him.

"Sit up," Remus breathed, feeling his power over the woman. Eloise was accepting of him and it made him feel strong, in control…Alpha. Eloise did so, and Remus reached behind her and unclasped her bra, sliding it down her arms, his eyes on her breasts. They were perfect. Not huge but large and firm, tipped with puckered brown nipples. Remus dropped to his knees and caressed them, looking into Eloise's face as she snarled slightly, her lip curling with pleasure. Remus lowered his head and kissed both her breasts gently, then licked them all over before drawing one hard nipple into his mouth, Eloise hissing and digging her nails into his shoulders as he laved first one breast than the other.

Eloise felt as if she were turning inside out as the werewolf worshipped her breasts, her body becoming extremely sensitive, the room losing reality as she whimpered against her would-be mate's ministrations, Remus' hands moving over her back and waist, sliding down her thighs, petting her gently as he growled in reaction to the taste and scent of her body. Suddenly he pulled away and pushed her down, yanking at her knickers and pulling them off quickly. He needed to taste her core, drink in the flavor of her body. He lifted Eloise's legs over his shoulders, and slid his tongue between her labia in a long, slow lick.

Eloise whimpered, her thighs shuddering on either side of his head as Remus raised it slightly, inhaling her scent, his eyes closed with pleasure and smacking his lips audibly several times as he savored her taste. Suddenly the wizard's eyes flew open and he looked at her before letting out a long, victorious howl that shot straight to Eloise's apex.

Rubin heard them and shook his head. Suddenly, he heard another sound, a rather unwelcome one. He walked to the window and saw several Aurors standing outside the silver fencing, pulling at it and looking at it curiously.

Oh no. Not now.

Rubin hurried out of the farmhouse, walking swiftly toward the fence. He stopped, not opening it.

"Can I help you?" he asked the Auror standing closest to the fence. He pulled out a piece of parchment.

"We're from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," the Auror said to the farmer, "Here to see Miss Eloise Hedgeberry. Here's our paperwork."

The Auror pushed it through a link in the fence. Rubin read it over. It was all in order, but this was a bad time.

"Ah, Miss Hedgeberry is…is occupied," Rubin said, not wanting to tell the Aurors she was in heat and with Remus Lupin.

"She has to see us. It will be a short visit. We just want to see how she is," the Auror replied with a slight frown. They would tear the fence down if the farmer didn't let them in. Besides, what was he trying to hide?

Rubin looked at the five wizards, then reluctantly drew his wand, removed his signature and let them enter.

"Where is she?" another Auror demanded. They were all suspicious now.

Rubin pointed to the charmed barn. It wouldn't be locked because neither Remus nor Eloise was in werewolf form.

"She's in there…but she's with Remus Lupin," Rubin said quickly, "They're…occupied."

The Aurors looked at each other, fully aware that Eloise was a fertile bitch. They started walking toward the barn quickly. Rubin hurried and stood in front of the door, blocking their entry.

"Eloise is in heat!" Rubin said to them, "Remus isn't in his proper state of mind. If you go in there now, he may attack you without meaning to. It's instinct. Come back later when they're finished."

The head Auror frowned.

"Unless you want to be held in contempt for interfering in Ministry Business, Mr. Fezwig, I suggest you step aside," he said in a hard voice.

"You bastards. You want him to attack you," Rubin said, his eyes hard as he looked at the Aurors measuringly, "You want to stop them."

"We don't want any werewolf pups running about," another Auror said, pulling the farmer aside roughly, then ripping open the door and entering the barn en masse.

Rubin ran in behind them, drawing his wand and shouting an invocation, slamming the cage door shut and warding it with his signature so Remus couldn't get out. Both werewolves were unaware of the door opening, they were so involved with each other. Remus was now on top of Eloise, kissing her hungrily, sharing her flavor. They hadn't got to mating yet. But when the cage door slammed shut, Remus lifted his head, his eyes black-veined with rage and snarled at the Aurors, leaping off of Eloise and charging the bars as if ready to kill all of them. He wasn't himself at all.

Eloise managed to pull the top blanket around her body, but she too snarled at the Aurors viciously.

The Aurors stared at the couple, especially at Remus' huge tool. Damn he was hung. They all felt a bit…inadequate. That didn't help matters. All of them drew their wands.

"Eloise is a citizen of muggle England!" Rubin said, walking through the wizards but careful to stay out of arm's reach of Remus as he continued to snarl and rattle the bars, "You can talk to her, but you can't do anything to either her or Remus. They haven't attacked you or broken any muggle laws."

"They are about to. Werewolves under Ministry laws are not allowed to breed. Lupin's about to break the law. We can't do anything about the bitch, but we can stop him. Now open the cage, Mr. Fezwig."

Eloise sat up now, frowning at them. She was able to control her responses better than Remus since she embraced them.

"No. Don't open it. They came to talk to me…so talk," she snapped as Remus looked at her hungrily, then back at the men. He stopped snarling but hatred blazed in his eyes at this interruption.

"Lupin isn't allowed to impregnate you," the Auror snapped back, his eyes resting on the wizard. He planned to beat the shit out of him.

"He won't. I'm protected. I am not going to breed," she said.

"Contraceptive…charm," Remus managed to get out.

The Aurors looked at each other. They had never thought about werewolves practicing safe sex.

"How do we know that's true?" another Auror asked.

Remus seemed to come back to himself now, deflating slightly. He walked over to the spot he dropped his wand, picked it up and walked toward Eloise. He pressed the tip of it against her lower belly and audibly invoked the spell again. It wouldn't hurt her. The Aurors frowned as they saw the red globe absorbed into her body.

"You've seen it for yourself," Remus growled at them, sitting down on the bed beside Eloise.

There was nothing the Aurors could say about their mating now.

"What about that fence outside?" he asked Remus. Rubin answered.

"Protection. I don't want a horde of werewolves descending on my farm because Eloise is in heat," the farmer said.

"But you let Lupin in," the Auror said, "You should have kept him out as well."

"Why?" Rubin asked him, "Eloise wanted him to visit. She has a right to male company. She prefers Remus."

The Aurors looked like they disagreed with that. Maybe they should petition to get Lupin cut. They'd check into it.

"Now, what do you want?" Eloise demanded, "As you can see…I'm busy."

All of the Aurors looked murderous. They weren't used to being addressed by werewolves in such a manner…but Eloise was a special case. She had the same rights they did or any citizen of the wizarding world. They could only monitor her.

The Aurors spent an hour and a half asking Eloise inane questions. Rubin had passed Remus his boxers through the bars and the wizard put them on, looking at the Aurors with his nostrils flared. They were purposely cockblocking. Finally there were no more questions to ask, but one. And it was phrased as a statement.

"Miss Hedgeberry, you are going to have to supply us with a copy of how your menstrual cycle falls from month to month," the head Auror said to her.

Eloise scowled.

"Why?" she asked him.

The Auror looked surprised she questioned this.

"Because we need to know when you go into heat," he replied.

"And why is that?" she snapped at him.

"I think that's obvious, Miss Hedgeberry," the Auror replied. She couldn't possibly be that stupid. "We need to know when you can conceive whelps."

"Whelps? You mean 'children' don't you?" she asked.

"No. Werewolves have whelps, not children," he replied.

Eloise snarled at him so viciously that the Auror drew back from the cage. Remus growled also, but low. He didn't have the protection of the law Eloise did.

"Now you listen, damn it, and you listen good. I am not supplying you with a calendar that shows when my period comes. It's no one's business but my own. I am legally allowed to keep my eggs, which means I can breed if I want to. Where I come from, tabs are not kept on a woman's cycle and I'm very sure you have no legal grounds to demand that I do it."

The Auror wanted to say she wasn't a woman, but a werewolf, but muggle law considered her still human with all the rights that came with it.

"Then a list of the werewolves you mate with," the Auror said as a compromise.

"Get the fuck out of here! I'm not giving you that either. Why? So you can harass them…or maybe neuter them?" Eloise hissed.

Remus' legs reflexively clamped together at that statement, noticing how the Aurors looked at him. Shit. He bared his teeth slightly. They'd better not try it. They'd have to kill him before he'd let them cut his balls off.

Eloise had no intention on engaging a bunch of werewolves. If Remus killed Fenrir, she'd stay with him. But the Aurors couldn't even conceive of monogamy in werewolves. They really considered them animals in human form. The prejudice ran very deep.

The Auror stared at Eloise. She couldn't be forced to give him any information without it being on paper, cleared with the Ministry and her own muggle government. He was trying to trick her, but Eloise wasn't having it. The Auror sighed.

"I wish you would be more cooperative, Miss Hedgeberry. You'd make our job much easier," he said with a hint of exasperation.

"I wish you'd just get the fuck out of here and leave Remus and I to our business," she snapped back at him, "I couldn't give a damn how easy your job is. You're all just a bunch of bigots with the law behind you, letting you treat people with our malady any way you want to. It's like the Dark Ages. You've talked to me, now go!" she snarled.

The Aurors hesitated, then slowly turned and exited the barn. Rubin, who had stayed the entire time, winked at the couple and removed the ward on the cage door.

"That's telling them, Eloise. Now you two have fun," the farmer said, exiting the barn and closing the door behind him.

He followed the Aurors, who waited at the fence for him to open it. Rubin did so gladly, watching the whole group of them disapparate.

He sighed with relief.

If he hadn't locked that cage door, they probably would have taken both Remus and Eloise and locked them up in Azkaban for attacking them. If Eloise broke the law by doing that, then she would pay the price. However, she could get legal representation and probably beat the case, but Remus couldn't. Animals didn't get legal redress in court. In the wizarding world, werewolves were, for the most part, considered animals.

Rubin shook his head as he walked back to the farmhouse. The wizarding world was such a mish mash of great freedoms and greater bigotries.

Even a world full of magic wasn't perfect.

Eloise sat in the bed stiffly, the covers drawn up around her body, still scowling.

"The nerve of them, interrupting us like that. Decent men would have left and come back later," she seethed.

"They're not decent men, they are members of the Werewolf Unit. Werewolves don't rate decency or consideration from them," Remus said softly, though his eyes were hard for a moment, then softened as they swept over the angry muggle.

"Well, I'm going to complain that they infringed on my privacy. They could have left long enough for us to get dressed," she said, then she looked at Remus, "Though you didn't seem to mind being naked."

"They had no business here," he snarled, growing angry at the thought of them interrupting him when he was about to have sex with Eloise.

"But they are the Werewolf Unit," Eloise said softly, her brown eyes becoming slightly veined again as she thought about how Remus tried to get at the men. He wasn't afraid of them, that was for certain.

"I don't care who they were. We were…we were about to…" he said, his eyes meeting hers. The wizard let out a whine and caught the edge of the covers wrapped around Eloise and pulling them down, revealing her body again.

"We were about to engage," he growled, snuffling her neck, then licking it, getting an erection almost immediately as he climbed behind Eloise and pulled her into the bed properly, laying her on her back and rolling on top of her. The werewolf looked down at the muggle, his belly tight with possessiveness before he kissed her passionately.

Eloise pulled away from his mouth, staring up at him. Remus tried to kiss her again, but she shifted.

"What?" he snarled at her.

"You…you seem different Remus," Eloise said softly, "Actually you are different. Haven't you noticed? The last week you haven't been sick or pale. You look healthier…stronger. You are also acting more…more dominant."

"That's because of you, Eloise. I want you and everything in me is geared toward having you," he said with a low growl, "I can't afford to be weak, sickly and pale if I want a bitch like you."

He tried to kiss her again, and Eloise turned her mouth away from him. She wanted to talk to him about the changes. She remembered what Fenrir had told her about him, about how he needed to embrace his werewolf side to become strong.

Remus scowled down at her. Was he going to have to struggle with her again?

"Remus, we need to talk," she said, the wizard stiffening.

Oh no. Not talk. Not now. He let out a whine as he saw the determination on her face. He rolled off Eloise and sat up in the bed, his organ pulsing between his legs. Gods, why did women always want to do this before sex? Why not afterwards?

"All right. We'll talk…but not too long. I can't wait too long for you Eloise. It seems like an eternity all ready," Remus said, his eyes drifting over her body.

"Remus, your scent has changed. It's more…dominant. Everything about you is dominant. A month ago, you would have never gone after those wizards that came here today," Eloise said softly, "Fenrir told me that you were a fool because you fight your transformation and it keeps you sick because your body is warring against itself. You take that potion too, to control your instincts. He said it would be better if you accepted what you were. The past week you've been changing because of me…your mating instinct has come out…and you've become much more…more masculine and aggressive because of it. Don't you think that if you stopped taking that potion and accepted being a werewolf and not a complete human being it would be better for you? You've been fighting it all your life and suffering. But now, you're strong. You could be stronger…and happier."

Remus looked at her. He had noticed the changes in himself but just attributed it to his desire for Eloise, not his wolf instincts coming out.

"You want me to stop taking the potion?" he asked her.

"Yes. You will be better off, Remus. Less submissive. I think that you are an Alpha and that the potion kept you from developing your natural tendencies," Eloise said softly, "And that is what keeps you so sick. I've only been a werewolf a couple of months and I feel fine…better than fine. Stronger. Faster. Better in a way. The other werewolves look fine as well. They accept what they are, Remus. I think it's time for you to accept it too. It may help when you face Fenrir as well."

Remus looked torn. He had been taking the potion since he was a child, hoping it would keep him lucid enough to keep from killing anyone.

"Eloise, if I stop taking the potions, I won't be able to control what I do," he said, "I could hurt or kill someone. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"Remus, you can think as a werewolf. You aren't a complete beast. I remember everything that happened last month during my transformation. I don't lose who I am when I become a werewolf. True, there are stronger desires and a powerful urge to hunt but you aren't completely lost. There is some control," she said.

Remus shook his head.

"Eloise, I almost killed a teacher and several students a few years ago when I transformed without drinking the wolfsbane potion. I didn't recognize them. I felt horrible. I don't want that to ever happen again," he said.

"Remus, you lock yourself up every month. It's not going to happen because you won't let it happen. You don't need the wolfsbane potion when you take precautions like that, don't you see? Besides that sounds like your first transformation without the potion. You had to be disoriented, unused to your instincts. You might even have been hungry or in pain when you went after those people," she said softly, "The first time I transformed I remember pain, but not much else. But transforming the second time didn't hurt as much, and the third time was just uncomfortable. I think if you stop taking the potion, Remus, you'll be able to handle your transformation."

Remus still looked doubtful.

"Besides," Eloise purred, drawing a finger down his chest slowly and licking her lips, "You are so much sexier this way…dangerous, strong, bold, so ready to protect what's yours. I want you to stay this way."  
"I've changed that much?" he asked her, wavering.

Eloise was asking him to give up his crutch, the only thing he believed kept him human. He didn't understand that his humanity didn't come from a bottle, it came from the soul. He might be a werewolf, but he was a man too.

"Yes, you have," Eloise replied, leaning forward and running her tongue down his chest, tasting him and letting out a small growl as Remus leaned his head back, biting his lip. She dropped lower and began to lick his organ, the wizard falling back on his elbows as her tongue moved over him, soft, wet and indescribably good.

Eloise snuffled him loudly and lifted her head, her eyes once again veined with desire. Remus' eyes matched her own. Suddenly he grabbed Eloise, flipping her over on her belly and moving behind her, drawing her to her knees rather roughly. He pushed her legs apart as far as he could and pushed his loins against her, his member resting between her buttocks. He clasped her waist with both hands, and moved against her sensually, rubbing his hot, hard shaft between her cheeks.

Eloise gasped, pressing back against him, dripping and ready for more.

"Remus," she hissed, "Oh God. Remus."

The wizard stopped moving and pulled his hips back. Gods, the way she smelled. He bit his lip and grasped his erection, pressing the fat head against her entrance, overcome with the need to claim Eloise as his own in a way she couldn't deny.

"No more talk," the wizard rasped, "I'll stop taking the potion, Eloise…for you. For…this…"

Remus rammed deep inside the inside of the muggle with a howl, drawing her back and groaning as her heat slipped over him, coating him with her juices, Eloise crying out and jerking roughly as Remus filled her with his enormous tool.

"Fuck!" Eloise gasped at his size.

"Yes…" Remus breathed, driving into her hungrily again, hitting her hard and deep and forcing her body forward before yanking it back into him, "Fuck.'

Eloise tried to twist in his hands, reaching around with one hand to try and control his thrust. Remus snarled at her and shook her roughly.

"Back down! Stay down, bitch!" he growled, catching her arm and twisting it behind her back. Not hard enough to hurt her, but he could control her this way. It might have seemed quite horrible for a human male to treat a woman this way, but it was standard fare for werewolves since domination played a large part in their interactions. Remus was simply showing he was the more dominant of the two now and she had to submit to his strength.

With Remus holding on to her arm, Eloise could not stay up on her hands, and her head fell to the mattress, her buttocks high in the air. Panting and groaning, Remus tore into her with deep, possessive strokes, taking every inch of her body, his pelvis slapping against her loudly as she howled underneath him.

"You…will…be…mine," the wizard panted as he leaned back, making his angle sharper, Eloise crying out as his massive tool claimed her brutally. But she took it, and loved it…had he been weak she might even have clawed her way away from him.

Remus released her arm and allowed Eloise to rise back up on her hands as he moved her hair aside and bent over her, still hunching, kissing her smooth shoulder. As his lips moved over her he felt a small scar. He stopped possessing the muggle and looked at her skin. His eyes went hard. There was a bite there. A small one.

Fenrir's mark. He'd marked her. Damn him!

"Remus, Remus what's wrong…keep going," Eloise groaned, looking over her shoulder at him.

"He's marked you," Remus growled, "That bastard Fenrir marked you as his mate."

"What?" Eloise gasped, "I'm not his, Remus. I'm with you. Can't you fix it? I don't want to carry his mark on me!"

"Not with magic," Remus said, "But I can fix it…"

He began to ride Eloise again, driving into her in a frenzy now as if Fenrir's mark was goading him, making him want to wipe his premature claim to the woman away. Eloise's mouth was open and she was nothing but sensation, the power of Remus' possession taking her over fully.

"You are not his, you're MINE!" Remus suddenly snarled, bending over her and sinking his teeth into her shoulder over Fenrir's mark and leaving his own, tasting her sweet blood, Eloise snarling passionately as the pain hit her. She orgasmed, letting out a ragged scream and tightening around the werewolf as he continued shagging her and sucking at her wound. He felt her release pour over him and unable to fight the pleasure, ejaculated, releasing her shoulder and leaning back, gripping her waist and drawing her into him as he pumped thick, creamy come into her body with a howl. Gods, it was incredible.

Remus fell back to her shoulder as he pulsed, licking the wound tenderly as Eloise shuddered beneath him. Their initial mating hadn't been long, but it had been affecting and damn good. Remus' hunger for her made the length of the act less important than the purpose, and Eloise felt quite satisfied as she sank down to the bed, Remus still buried inside her, deflating, his tongue a comfort as he continued to soothe the wound he'd left.

Eloise lay beneath him, her eyes closed and purring for the next five minutes until she felt him moved to her throat, licking and kissing it gently, then slowly withdrawing, breaking their physical connection and sliding off of her. She turned over and faced him, her brown eyes searching his face. Remus kissed her gently and pulled her into him, wrapping both his arms around her.

"You're beautiful," he breathed between kisses, caressing her hair and back.

Eloise rested against him, enjoying his kisses. She had sex with other men, but it never ended this way. Sex was followed with quick dressing and awkward goodbyes. She felt as if Remus would like to stay this way, holding and kissing her forever. And the wizard did feel that way. He also was used to the scant women he had engaged fleeing him the moment he got off them, horrified at the way he'd brutalized them. He didn't mean to…it was just the way he was during sex. Wolfsbane did nothing to ease that aspect of him. But Eloise was a werewolf bitch. She expected this of him. By the soft smile on her face, she was very satisfied.

"No one else, man or wolf will mark you again, Eloise," Remus swore, his eyes going hard now, "I know you said I must kill Fenrir before you'll agree to be my mate, but to me…you already are. I will protect you tooth and nail. I'll kill anyone who comes near you with the intention of stealing you from me."

His eyes blackened with veins as he said this. Then he kissed her again…possessively. When he broke the kiss and rolled to his back, tucking her head against his shoulder, Eloise said nothing. She lay there sated, praying that Remus would survive his encounter with Fenrir.

He had to. He was all she wanted now.

* * *

Eloise and Remus made love all through the night and stayed together the entire day of the Night of the Full moon, Rubin feeding them well as they readied themselves for transformation. As they sat at the outside table and ate, Rubin entered Eloise's cage and collected a bit of the hay of their nest and put it inside of a box with a lid, carrying the rather pungent straw back into his house. He sat the box on the floor of his parlor, opened it and took some out. Whew, it stunk of essence of werewolf.

He picked up the shirt and pants he threaded with silver, placed them inside the box and covered it with the rest of the straw, sealing it and setting it in a corner of the room. Well, that was done. The clothing would stay in that box until the next full moon.

That night both Eloise and Remus transformed without the wizard taking his wolfsbane potion, and as Eloise thought, he definitely acted the Alpha, standing over her protectively as she chewed on the beef bones Rubin so thoughtfully provided, sharing his food and mating with her repeatedly. He wouldn't be cowed by her and backed her up into a corner several times during the night, showing the bitch who was boss.

In the morning, for the first time since he could remember, Remus awoke from his transformation feeling refreshed, Eloise curled against him as they lay naked in the nest together. The first thing Remus did was look around to see what damage he had done to the muggle's quarters. Other than the mattress of the bed being on the floor, everything was fine. So he hadn't gone wild and destroyed everything. He only remembered Eloise transforming however and was anxious about how he might have treated her.

He sat up, Eloise stirring slightly. He looked her body over for scratches or bite marks, but other than the mark on her shoulder, her flesh was unblemished…well…almost. Her buttocks were rather red from all his slapping against them the past two days. Suddenly, he winced. His back hurt.

Remus reached around and felt a long scratch down his back. It was raw, probably from Eloise. Well, she was worth a little pain. Actually a lot of pain.

Eloise moaned then stretched, opening her brown eyes and looking up at Remus. She gave him a rather sexy smile.

"Good morning, wolf," she purred at him.

Remus felt himself tightening at the husky invitation in her voice. She was still in heat.

"Good morning," he said softly, "I see you survived me without the wolfsbane."

She nodded.

"Barely. You were an animal, Remus. In a good way. Definitely an Alpha. You had me backed up in the corner constantly…I couldn't bluff my way out. You were something," she said to him sitting up.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked Eloise, his eyes washing over her body as if checking for damage a second time.

"Hurt me? No. Not really," she replied, kissing him softly on the mouth, "You just acted like a dominant male. It was fine, Remus."

The couple sank back down into the straw, getting a bit of good morning nookie before exiting the barn. They were both rank of sex and natural odors, but Rubin was used to it because of his son and knew that the scent was pleasant to the werewolves, so he just served them their breakfast without comment. He knew the moment Eloise came out of heat, she'd bathe insanely. Remus would clean up as well. He didn't like humans to smell he was a werewolf. He tried to stay as pleasant smelling as possible and did a good job of it. But right now it was just the two of them.

All seemed right with the world.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore read the news of the werewolf attack in the Daily Prophet this morning, shaking his head sadly as he read how a family of four was attacked in their home. The mother, father and son were killed, and a little girl of four mauled and bitten. Dumbledore knew this could be the work of no other creature than Fenrir, who was getting revenge for the capture of the Death Eaters.

Of course, the entire werewolf village would descended upon, put on lockdown and every werewolf living within any of the city or town limits rounded up and questioned. Whenever there was a killing by a werewolf, they all suffered. Fenrir didn't care and actually hoped that the mistreatment would make them rebel and fight back. But they never did.

Yes, Fenrir had murdered that family, creeping up on them while they prepared for bed, bursting through the door and slaughtering them, partially devouring the son as the little girl watched screaming, then turning on her and buffeting her about before biting her and passing on the curse.

The Aurors did not go to Rubin's farm however. They knew Eloise was in heat and Remus was with her. Besides, the surrounding area was enclosed by silver fencing. It was unlikely either of the werewolves had left the farm last night. They had better things to do than murder a family.

Albus sighed. He felt responsible because they didn't capture Fenrir the night they retrieved Voltaire. The Ministry would look for him, but the werewolf had been avoiding capture for years. The wizard's thoughts shifted to Remus and the muggle woman Fenrir had turned. He looked thoughtful.

The Headmaster tossed some floo powder into the fireplace and called down to Severus' rooms. The wizard was wrapped around Hermione and snoring loudly. But he still heard Albus and woke quickly…Hermione muttering as he untangled himself and climbed over her, grabbing his housecoat and tying it around his nude body. Yawning, he walked into the study.

"Yes, Headmaster?" he said sleepily, blinking down at the fireplace. Albus smiled at him.

"Severus, are you up for a small outing today?" the Headmaster asked him, "To the country?"

Severus scratched his ass through his robes. Hm. Hermione had work to do…she was already late and was going to be pissed at him for not waking her up earlier. It might be best to get out of Hogwarts for the day.

"Certainly, sir," the wizard said, "I will be there in a few minutes."

"Excellent," the Headmaster beamed, then he let out a grunt and scowled, "Oh dear. I'm really getting too old for all this bending. Maybe Miss Granger could come up with a way to project the image of a face for a floo conversation without requiring a person to get on their knees."

"Maybe she could, sir," Severus replied with a small smirk, "I will see you soon."

He walked back into the bedroom stealthily, tipping over to the nightstand and picking up his wand. Hermione was still sound asleep. Severus walked into the bathroom and cast a silencing spell around it, so Hermione wouldn't hear him showering and wake up. He took a piss, then quickly showered.

He exited the bathroom, gathered his clothes out of the wardrobe, got his shoes from under the bed and dressed in the study. As he buttoned the last button on his robes, he heard Hermione call him.

"Severus," she called sleepily.

He was about to enter the bedroom when he heard Hermione squeal, "Ten o'clock! Severus! How could you let me sleep so late! Oh….I'm going to kiiiiill you! I've missed breakfast and you know I had to…"

Severus quickly threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and bolted for Albus' office. Hermione was most violent in the mornings, especially before coffee and breakfast. He wasn't up for it. By evening she'd be sufficiently calmed down…he hoped. Him disappearing wasn't going to help though.

"Ah Severus, good morning my boy," Albus said to him jovially, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Good morning, sir," Severus replied, "And where are we off to this morning?"

"Ah. To pay a visit to a friend of mine…a Mr. Rubin Fezwig," the Headmaster replied.

"Is this a social call?" Severus asked.

Albus' eyes stopped twinkling and he picked up the paper off the desk, opened it and handed it to Severus, pointing at the headline.

Severus quickly read the story. Gods, a murder by werewolf. The way the scene was described…only one werewolf would have done such a thing.

"Not really," the Headmaster said darkly, " Mr. Fezwig has something on his farm that belongs to Fenrir, at least as far as Fenrir is concerned. Something he will eventually return for. Something Remus Lupin took from him."

Severus looked up at Albus sharply.

"What is it?" he asked the wizard curiously.

"A fertile, female werewolf," Albus said, "Her name is Eloise Hedgeberry."

Severus looked a bit shocked at this news. All werewolf females were sterilized immediately as far as he knew.

"A fertile female, Albus? How could that be?" Severus asked him.

"She's a muggle and not under wizarding law. They can't arbitrarily sterilize her. But the Ministry is responsible for her since a wizard turned her," Albus said.

"And Remus took her from Fenrir? Remus?" Severus said with disbelief in his voice.

"Yes. Apparently, he is much more courageous than others give him credit for…and if he is with the lady, I imagine he will be even more so now. No doubt he has overridden the wolfsbane potion because of the strength of his attraction to Miss Hedgeberry," Albus said, putting on his traveling cloak.

Severus scowled.

"You say that like it's a good thing, Albus. That potion is the only thing that keeps Remus under control," the Potions Master said, then he frowned.

"Remus didn't come for his potion this month, Headmaster," the wizard said darkly, "He had to have transformed without it last night."

Severus thought about the murdered family. Could Remus have done it?

"That potion does more than keep Remus 'under control' Severus. It keeps him sick, weak and unwilling to confront situations that he needs to confront," Albus said, looking Severus directly in his eyes, "It is that potion that made him not confront James and Sirius concerning their treatment of you. He came to me, you know. Asking me to do something about how James and Sirius targeted you. I asked him why he didn't say anything to his friends himself and he said he couldn't do it. He was afraid of what they would say. He had been taking that potion since his third year, Severus."

"He's needed it," Severus replied, thinking about how he himself was almost killed by Remus because of Sirius Black playing a sick joke. Actually it wasn't a joke. Black meant for him to be killed.

"I've thought about that a long time, Severus. The werewolf village is full of men and women who don't take wolfsbane and don't go looking for blood during their transformations. True, it's not safe for a human to be in the vicinity, but they don't actually go looking for trouble. It is as if they know people are not supposed to be prey. And they are neither sickly, weak and most are not withdrawn. They are social and happy as far as they are allowed to be happy with the Ministry constantly baiting them. I believe Remus could live a better life without the wolfsbane potion. It's time he accepted who and what he is," the Headmaster said.

Severus had never even considered the rest of the werewolves. Fenrir was enough to taint anyone's attitudes about werewolves. Severus suddenly realized that Fenrir was the exception and not the norm. It was true, the werewolves did live fairly decent lives, but much of it was attributed to the Ministry's tight rein on them. But if they were truly complete beasts, they would constantly slaughter humans, because in that form they would have no inkling of what the laws were. That they didn't break them showed there was something happening here. Could werewolves reason in their animal forms?

Dear gods. Hermione better not ever get hold of this one. She loved Remus Lupin, in a platonic kind of way of course. She'd throw herself into proving werewolves could be safe as house elves.

Severus shook his head as he imagined Hermione putting herself in a cage full of transforming werewolves with pork chops tied around her neck for added dramatics. Circe.

"Albus, would you do me a favor and not talk about ANY of this to Hermione? I'd like to keep her around a bit longer," Severus said to the Headmaster soberly.

Albus chuckled non-committally.

"We'll see," he said opening the office door.

Severus scowled.

He didn't like the sound of that chuckle.

They had just come to the shifting stairwell when Severus looked down and saw Hermione stalking through the main hall, her wand in hand, looking about murderously. She walked over to the Great Hall, opened the door and looked in. After a moment, she closed the door, scowling. Suddenly she looked up and Severus darted back. She only saw the Headmaster standing there, smiling at her benignly.

"Headmaster, I will meet you outside. I am going to take a…a shortcut," Severus said, dipping behind a tapestry hurriedly and disappearing.

"Headmaster, have you seen Professor Snape?" Hermione called up to him.

"I…I did see him earlier, Hermione, but he's gone now," the wizard replied, adjusting his glasses a bit.

Well, at least Albus didn't lie.

The Headmaster watched as Hermione stamped her foot and stormed toward corridor leading to the Dark Arts class. Severus sometimes sat in on the classes, much to the chagrin of the students. Hermione seemed to want to speak to Severus quite badly.

He descended the shifting stairs with a smile on his face as he thought about the couple.

"Ah, to be young and in love," he thought.

Little did he know Hermione was so pissed off at Severus for not only letting her oversleep but then disappearing without a word that it was quite likely she'd be young and incarcerated if she caught up to him.

Luckily for Severus, she didn't.

* * *

Lupin was feeding Eloise a strip of steak, the muggle sucking the juices sexily off his fingertips when they heard the sound of apparition. Remus immediately stood up, sniffing, his brow furrowed. His sense of smell seemed increased, and his face relaxed. Rubin walked out of the house and looked toward the fence, a smile breaking out on his face as he saw Albus and Severus. Albus was examining the fence.

"Amazing. Werewolf-proof fencing," he said to Severus, who studied the fence and the mesh top. Whoever Rubin Fezwig was, he knew how to protect himself.

Rubin hurried over to the fence.

"Albus! Good to see you old man," he said, pulling out his wand, unwarding the fence and rolling it back so both wizards could enter. Albus embraced the farmer warmly as Severus stood by.

"Good to see you too, Rubin. This is Professor Severus Snape. He teaches at Hogwarts.

Rubin offered his hand to Severus, who took it shaking it firmly. The old man had quite a grip. The Potions Master imagined healthy living and hard work had a lot to do with it.

As Albus and Rubin chatted, Severus looked over at the table where Remus was sitting with a brown-haired, pretty and rather ruffled looking woman. She had to be the muggle Albus had told him about. The wizard walked over to them.

Suddenly, Severus stopped, his nose wrinkled. Good gods. Both of them stunk to high heaven. A mixture of old sex and what only could be described as wet dog permeated the air. The Potions Master pulled out his wand, muttered a freshening charm and waved it about liberally. He was tempted to scourgify the couple but knew that probably wouldn't be met with their approval. They probably liked the stench.

Remus looked at the pale wizard with mirth in his eyes as Eloise looked at him with curiosity. He smelled of soap and sex.

"Who is that, Remus?" she asked the wizard.

"A very old acquaintance of mine. Professor Snape. Not the most pleasant chap, believe me. That big nose of his picked up our scent. I imagine he got quite a snootful with that honker," Remus said as Severus walked up to them.

Eloise stifled a laugh as Severus looked down at the couple.

"Remus," he said by way of greeting.

"Professor," Remus replied, nodding his head, "This is Eloise Hedgeberry."

Severus inclined his head to the muggle. By the way they were sitting, Remus facing sideways with both legs straddling the bench and Eloise between them, it was easy to see they were an item.

"Hello, Professor," the woman said.

Severus stared at her for a moment, then he looked at Remus and frowned.

"You didn't come pick up your wolfsbane potion, Remus," Severus said to him.

"No, I didn't," Remus said.

Severus waited for him to explain himself, but Remus felt no need to do it. In the past, Remus always felt the need to unnecessarily explain himself to everyone, whether he needed to or not. But not now.

He didn't need to explain his actions to anyone.

The wizards looked at each other for several moments, both sets of eyes rather hard.

Eloise could sense there was some bad blood between the two, but said nothing. Suddenly Albus walked up. If he smelled the pair, he didn't show it.

"Ah Remus," he said, extending his hand and shaking the werewolf's hand warmly.

"Headmaster," Remus said with a broad smile, "Allow me to introduce…"

"Eloise Hedgeberry. Greetings my dear. And welcome to the wizarding world," Albus said, shaking her hand warmly as well.

"What brings you here, Headmaster?" Remus inquired.

Albus walked around the table and sat down across from the two, his face becoming sober. Eloise's eyes washed over the tall, bearded wizard. He seemed kind, but underneath she could sense great strength.

"Last night, there was a brutal killing by a werewolf, Remus. A wizarding family was attacked. A mother, father and young son were killed. A little girl survived but she was bitten," the Headmaster said.

Both Remus and Eloise looked at him with horror.

"Fenrir," Remus growled.

"Yes. Fenrir. As you know, the entire werewolf population will take the brunt of the outrage as they always do. Those who live in the village will be sequestered there for the next few months. Those who live in towns and cities will either be relocated for the duration or have tracking charms placed on them at all times," Albus said, "Rubin has informed me you two have not been visited. More than likely because the Ministry is aware of your current situation, Miss Hedgeberry being 'in heat' as it were. It is very unlikely the two of you left the farm. Particularly with the fencing. So no doubt you are both in the clear."

Remus and Eloise looked at each other. Severus frowned a bit. In heat? No wonder they smelled as they did.

"The reason I am here is to ask for your help in capturing Fenrir," Albus said, "No doubt he will come for Miss Hedgeberry at some time…"

"No! Fenrir is going to be killed, not captured! He deserves to die, not be locked up to be fed and cared for the rest of his life!" Eloise snarled at the wizard, her eyes becoming black-veined. No one, not even this old wizard was going to steal her revenge from her.

Remus placed a hand on her arm to calm her.

"I intended to deal with Fenrir on the night of the next full moon, Headmaster," Remus said, a steely look in his eyes, "I intend to kill him…with Rubin's help."

Severus stared at the werewolf, unable to believe Remus Lupin was actually going to try to attempt to kill the strongest, fiercest werewolf in the wizarding world.

"You're no match for Fenrir, Remus," the Potions Master said.

Remus leapt up from the table with a snarl, his eyes wild, Eloise clinging to his arm as he faced Severus, looking ready to kill. Severus raised his wand defensively. He had never seen Remus lose his temper before. This wasn't like him.

"Don't tell me who I'm a match for, wizard!" he yelled, "I can face Fenrir! I must face him. You will not interfere!"

Albus looked at the werewolf calmly. It was as he thought. Remus had accepted his lot and was now showing the courage and strength the wizard always knew he had. Not that the wizard was a coward, but now he was showing his masculinity.

"Remus, we don't want to interfere with your plans…" Albus said, "but perhaps…perhaps we could provide backup in case something should go wrong."

"We?" Severus mouthed silently. Oh no. Not another crusade. Damn you, Albus.

Remus sat back down and looked at Eloise. He was her champion. If she wanted him to do it, he would.

Eloise looked back at Remus, torn. She wanted Fenrir dead, yes…but her feelings for the wizard had grown stronger in quite a short time. To be honest, she didn't want him to lose his life. Perhaps it would be good if he had someone to back him up if it seemed he would fail. She would still respect him for trying.

"I think…I think that might be a good idea, Remus. If something went wrong, they could help you," she said softly.

"They?" Severus mouthed again, groaning inwardly.

Remus' eyes softened as he looked at Eloise, then turned hard as he turned his head toward Albus.

"Only if something goes so wrong I can't recover from it," the werewolf demanded, "I won't have my glory taken from me! Fenrir has to die at my hand. Mine."

Rubin let out a little sigh of relief. They could use all the help they could get. But one thing was good about this. Now when they placed Eloise's scent all about, only Fenrir would come since the other werewolves were going to be locked down and unable to leave the village or towns. Unless there were other solitary werewolves. But they were rarely solitary by choice. Fenrir was on the run and Remus had been under the influence of wolfsbane potion.

"Yes, Remus. We will let you take your shot at glory," Albus said. Magic swirled around him, sealing his oath. Remus calmed immediately.

"Severus, come sit," Albus said, moving over and making room for the Potions Master on the bench.

Severus gave another little wave of his wand to freshen the air, then scowling, sat down next to Albus. Rubin sat on the other side.

Albus folded his hands together and looked around the table.

"Now, let us hear your plan," he said, his eyes dark.

* * *

When Severus returned to Hogwarts that evening, he went directly to Hermione's lab, figuring it would be better to go to the witch then letting her find him. It was sort of like walking into the open jaws of a dragon, but what could he do?

He frowned as he made his way down the stairs into the subdungeons. Albus had done it to him again. How did he allow himself to get caught up in the old wizard's plots? It was Albus' damned enthusiasm for the most part. He immediately assumed Severus would want to be a part of bringing Fenrir down, not knowing it wasn't the wizard's natural inclination to put his ass on the line fighting evil. He did it, but it didn't mean he liked it. He wasn't a Gryffindor, all of whom seemed to become highly aroused at the idea of facing deadly situations.

Well, he was in for it. When they hashed out the final details and Albus asked were they all agreed, everyone said aye and looked at Severus expectantly. He wanted to tell them all to sod off and he wasn't going to risk getting bit in the ass by either Fenrir or Remus, but it was Albus' expectant look that made him sigh, "Aye." Which got him a painful slap on the back from the Headmaster.

The big question was how the hell was he going to keep this hidden from Hermione? That witch seemed to always know when he was hiding something, even if he gave no visible sign. Good thing she hadn't worked for Voldemort back when he was a spy.

Severus pushed open her lab door to find Hermione in a huge pair of magnified goggles tied around her head. Her eyes were twice the size of Sybil Trelawney's as she looked up from her work. She was using tweezers to painstakingly pick up what looked like grains of sand from a small pile in front of her. She looked up at Severus, lifting the ridiculous glasses and scowling at him.

"So, where were you hiding all day?" she asked him, putting down her tweezers to put her hands on her hips.

"For your information, I wasn't hiding. I had to accompany the Headmaster," Severus replied.

Just as he thought, Hermione went from angry to curious in 0000.1 seconds.

"Where did you go?" she asked, taking off the goggles and shaking out her hair. She put them on the table, picked up a glass bowl and turned it over, covering the mound of powder she'd been working on.

"To visit an old friend of his," Severus said, hoping he didn't sound evasive.

Hermione's eyes narrowed immediately.

Damn it!

"So why did he need you?" she questioned him, pulling off her latex gloves and tossing them into a small trash bin next to the counter.

"He didn't need me exactly. He just asked me if I wanted to go. I knew you had work to do, so I said yes," Severus said.

Hermione looked at him as if she could see right through him.

"You and Albus are up to something," she said.

Severus blinked at her.

"Are you going to tell me what it is, or do I have to go to Albus?" Hermione asked him.

Shit. If she went to Albus, more than likely the old coot would tell her about his theory concerning reasonable werewolves. At least if he told her, then he could work around it. Severus sighed.

"All right, I'll tell you…but over dinner. I'm famished," the Potions Master said, trying to put it off as long as possible. Well, at least she wasn't yelling at him about letting her oversleep.

He watched as Hermione hung up her lab coat and washed her hands.

"I thought we might have our supper in my rooms. I've had enough extraneous company for one day," the wizard said, stepping aside and letting Hermione pass.

"That's fine, Severus," Hermione said, walking ahead of him.

Severus' eyes fell to her hips as he followed her. He was feeling a bit stressed after being trapped by Albus. A little sexual release couldn't hurt things a bit. The only problem was Hermione rarely let him have at her two days in a row. Sometimes he had to wait a week to get hold of her again. But he hadn't been too bad last night. Hermione didn't even need any purple potion for the aftermath. He had been rather gentle for the most part. She might be amicable for another tumble if he played his potions right.

"I'm sorry I let you oversleep, Hermione," he said to the witch, "I didn't wake up until Albus called me and didn't think to look at the time. I didn't realize it was so late until I actually was in the Headmaster's office and about to leave."

Hermione stopped and turned, again putting her hands on her hips.

"I saw the Headmaster this morning. You weren't with him," she said sharply.

Whoops. He'd forgotten he disappeared when he saw the witch looking for him in the Main Hall.

"I took a little detour. I needed to collect something from my stores before I left. I met him outside," Severus lied.

"What?" she asked.

"Remus' wolfsbane potion," Severus said quickly. The lie would tie in nicely when he told Hermione where he was…then he cursed himself. He had spoken too quickly. Hermione would now know Remus wasn't taking the potion any longer, and she'd want to know why he decided not to. Shit!

"Wolfsbane potion? Did you see Remus today? How is he?" Hermione asked him excitedly.

"I'll tell you while we dine," the wizard said sullenly, wondering how long it would take before Hermione started her crusade for Werewolf Rights. There was a small organization of werewolf supporters made up mostly of friends and family. It was called "FOW" or "The Friends of Werewolves." No doubt Hermione would become a card carrying member within weeks.

Severus followed the witch up the stairs. Well, maybe when she found out he was going to actively help Remus face Fenrir, she'd give him a bit because of his Albus-inspired selflessness.

Maybe.

To Severus' surprise, Hermione seemed far more interested in the plan to take down Fenrir, than the aspect of reasoning werewolves, though she did comment on Remus' acceptance being the key to controlling the animal inside him.

Instead of dwelling on this however, Hermione made several suggestions how to improve the plan and the chances of Remus' success. Suggestions that were so good, Severus took them to Albus, who wasted no time going back to Rubin's farm and incorporating them into the current plan. Hermione was truly brilliant, suggesting that the silver mesh be lowered to prevent Fenrir from leaping away and other ideas meant to streamline the attack, assuring the werewolf would be in the proper place at the proper moment.

Some of her suggestions required Rubin to do a bit more construction, but Albus helped him. Remus and Eloise couldn't.

Hermione also did some research in hunting magic, finding several spells that would cover Albus and Severus' scent, well…actually remove their scent and suggested the wizards use the spell each and every time they visited the farm. Fenrir would head for the hills, heat or not if he got even a whiff of Albus Dumbledore on the premises. No one had even thought about that, and Severus felt he had done a good thing talking to the Hermione. Plus, the sex afterwards had been absolutely stellar, Hermione taking the initiative and climbing all over him. He was exhausted by the time the little witch fell asleep.

Severus took Hermione to meet Eloise. Both muggle and witch entered the barn and stayed there for more than two hours before emerging and hugging each other warmly. Severus strolled around the farm and pastures alone until the witch was ready. It really was beautiful and peaceful in the country. He wouldn't mind living out here.

After they apparated back to Hogwarts, Severus tried to get Hermione to tell him what she and Eloise discussed.

"Oh, mostly the differences between muggle laws and wizarding laws," Hermione said lightly.

Severus scowled.

"I think you mean the differences how muggles who are werewolves are treated compared to citizens of the wizarding world who have the malady," he said to the witch, who shrugged and replied, "Potatoes, Patatoes."

Severus folded his arms as Hermione sat down in one of his armchairs, staring into the fire. He studied her for a moment before he spoke.

"You aren't going to end this conversation with a simple reference to differences in pronunciations, Hermione Granger," Severus said firmly, "Now what did you discuss?"

Hermione looked at him.

"We talked about bigotry, cruelty, social injustice….and the necessity for change," Hermione said, her jaw thrust out, "She told me how the Aurors tried to take Remus from her during her last heat. If Mr. Fezwig hadn't warded them in, they would have taken him and it would have been acceptable because Remus has no rights like she does. That's terrible, Severus…and only the beginning of the crimes committed against werewolves. They didn't ask for this. Why should they constantly suffer for one night of transformation a month? Why should they be denied entry into establishments or decent jobs? They are just as human as the rest of us when not transformed, Severus. And Eloise told me she remembers what she does when she transforms. Her brain isn't clouded completely. I think that part of the reason transformed werewolves are so vicious towards humans is that they aren't properly socialized with them. Wolves are social animals, even werewolves. They aren't blatant killers. They only kill when hunting or protecting themselves," she said.

"So that's what Fenrir does?" Severus asked her, frowning slightly.

"Fenrir is an animal whether in human or animal form. He's just a killer, Severus. It has nothing to do with him being a werewolf," Hermione spat, "If you look at all the werewolf killings and turnings over the past few years, Fenrir has been responsible for every single one. No one else."

Hermione was right about this, but didn't realize Fenrir's actions were motivated by the hatred he harbored against the wizarding world. The werewolf hadn't always been a killer. In fact, Fenrir became a killer defending his mother when the Aurors arrived at his home for their monthly harassment of the small family. The werewolf was seventeen then, and lived with his mother. Fenrir's father had been killed years before by the same werewolf that bit him. Fenrir's mother home schooled her son, since he wasn't allowed to attend a normal school. She was also his only companion since no one would associate with him.

When Fenrir went through his first transformation, he was only eight. His mother Ann chained him in the yard just before the full moon rose and watched her son transform. He was wild and vicious, in pain and snapped and snarled at her, his ears flat against his head with fear. The next morning she brought him inside and talked to him about what happened and told him next time not to be frightened and just let the changes happen because they couldn't stop them. Maybe it would be easier.

The next time his mother staked him, Fenrir did like she said, and although it still hurt, it didn't hurt for long. The next morning he remembered his mother sitting in a chair watching him. As he got used to his transformations, Fenrir retained more and more of his mind, and the night came when his mother was able to walk up to him as a werewolf and remove the chain from his neck. He obediently followed her into the house and slept on the floor in front of the fireplace. He didn't attack her. He knew who she was.

He hated when the Aurors would come and bully his mother, going through her things as well as his own and taking what they wanted. When she complained, she was told to send her son to the werewolf village where he belonged, and she wouldn't be visited and items confiscated. As long as Fenrir was in her home, she would be subject to such visitations.

Ann refused to do that and the pressure increased as Fenrir grew older. The boy was huge and inspired fear in others on sight. The Aurors could see the challenge in his eyes every time they came, and they tried their best to make him lose his temper and attack them. They wanted the werewolf dead.

It was when one of the Aurors pulled Fenrir's father's picture out of an ornate silver frame with the intention of taking it when Fenrir finally snapped. His mother begged the Auror not to take the frame. Her husband had given her that picture when they married. Fenrir was bristling, his stomach tight as the Auror dismissively told her to sit down and shut up. Ann reached for the frame and the Auror pushed her hard, the witch falling to the floor. What happened next was a blur. Fenrir was on the Auror instantly, and before he could help himself, tore his throat out…his mother screaming at him to stop. There were two other Aurors also, but they didn't have a chance. They blasted at Fenrir but he was incredibly fast and killed the both of them as well.

"No! No! Fenrir!" his mother cried, looking at the dead Aurors.

"They shouldn't have touched you. They could touch anything else in this house…but not you, mother," the young werewolf growled at her, blood smeared on his face

A look of horror crossed her face.

"You have to run, Fenrir. Run far from here. They're going to kill you," Ann said to her son, her eyes glistening.

"You come with me. We will hide together," Fenrir said, reaching for her arm.

"No. No I will only slow you down. I have to stay here…in my home. But you have to go…no one will understand what happened here," Ann said, "Go. They can't do anything to me if you aren't here. I will be protected. Go Fenrir."

The werewolf left his mother and his home, hiding in the forests and hunting animals to survive. But he was lonely and one night returned to the site of his home to find only burned rubble…and another gravestone next to his father's.

Fenrir ran up to it, dropping to his knees. He read the stone. It simply said, "Ann Greyback" and gave a date of death. It was only a week after he left. They had burned the house down around her for being the mother of a werewolf. She had paid the price meant for him

That night, an enraged Fenrir went on his first killing spree. They had killed the only person he ever loved…who ever loved him. The world would pay. He slaughtered most of two families, and turned four of the surviving children into werewolves. Let the wizarding world deal with that.

Fenrir met Tom Riddle hiding in a cave one night. The wizard was a human, but very powerful and put a binding spell on the young werewolf and told him who he was and about his own life of persecution. He told Fenrir they were much alike and about his dreams of becoming a leader of a world where the persecuted would become the masters. He convinced Fenrir to join his ranks and share in his glory. The lonely werewolf agreed.

Of course, it didn't work out that way. Voldemort didn't share, but he did let Fenrir kill with impunity and his protection.

Yes, that was the sad history of Fenrir Greyback. It seems everyone has a story…but Fenrir's had to end.

His had early on become a horror story.

* * *

Two days before the night of the full moon, Albus contacted Severus by floo and asked him to come up to his office. It was late in the evening and he and Hermione were playing a game of chess. They were evenly matched and both irritated by the interruption.

"I'll be back," Severus said to Hermione with a glower, "And I've memorized the board. I'll know if you've cheated."

Hermione scowled at him as he rose and walked over to the fireplace.

"Like I needed to cheat the last three times I beat you," she snapped back at him as he tossed a handful of floo powder into the flames.

Severus looked back at Hermione and gave her a smug little smirk.

"Then I beat you," he said to the witch, "Quite mercilessly I might add…in my bed. Surely you've discovered by now there's more than one way I take a Queen. Ultimately, it's the small victories I enjoy."

He strode through the floo as Hermione reddened brightly. Severus was insufferable sometimes.

Hermione sighed, propping her elbow up on the table and resting her chin in her hand.

Insufferable, but oh so fucking sexy.

* * *

Severus entered Albus' office to find the wizard standing behind his desk, looking down at a burlap bag. He looked up at Severus, his face slightly contorted.

"Ah, Remus dropped this off for you, Severus," the Headmaster said, pushing the bag toward the Potions Master gingerly with the tip of his wand.

Severus scowled. This couldn't be anything pleasant.

"What is it?" he asked.

"As I understand it, five days worth of used menstrual pads from Miss Hedgeberry. They need the…the 'scent' concentrated so they can sprinkle it about the countryside the morning of the Night of the Full Moon. It seems Miss Hedgeberry pointed out that scattering pads about was not only unsanitary, but suspicious. Fenrir would know it was a trap.

Severus looked at the bag with distaste for a moment. Dear gods. But then, he shrugged. Blood was blood. Even menstrual blood. He reached out and grabbed the bag. It was very heavy. How many pads did the muggle use?

"Very well. It will be ready by morning. I'll use Hermione's lab," the Potions Master said. Suddenly he grinned very wickedly.

Albus looked at him.

"Severus, what are you grinning about?" he asked him, his blue eyes shifting toward the bag uncomfortably.

"Ah, nothing sir. I will see you in the morning with the concentrated essence," the wizard replied, tossing a handful of floo powder into the floo and stepping back through to his study.

Hermione looked up at him.

"Well, that didn't take long," she said, then her eyes fell on the burlap bag, "What's that?"

Severus placed the bag on the floor.

"You'd rather not know," he said, walking into his bedroom and leaving Hermione alone with the bag. He walked over to the bathroom and pulled the door closed as if he'd entered it, then slunk back over to the bedroom door and waited. This was the reason why he had been grinning in Albus' office.

Hermione stared at the bag, then looked toward the bedroom. She heard the bathroom door close, quickly stood up and darted over to the bag. She took one more look toward the bedroom, then knelt, opening the bag and practically sticking her nose in it.

"Oh my gods!" Hermione yelled as the smell hit her. She staggered back, gagging as Severus exited the bedroom, grinning at her.

"I've told you about snooping witch," he said, closing the bag and picking it up.

"Oh Severus! That's…that's just disgusting! Why in the world do you have a bag full of bloody pads?" she asked him, covering her nose and mouth belatedly.

"It is for the trap we are laying for Fenrir. I have to concentrate it into liquid form so it can be spread around the countryside to draw him to the farm," Severus said, walking toward the study door, "I'm going to use your lab. Coming?"

Hermione shook her head.

"No, I think I'll pass on this one," she said, her face contorted, "Just make sure you purify and scourgify the hell out of everything you use. Gods."

Severus smirked at her and exited the study.

Hermione scowled. He'd done that on purpose. Severus knew she wouldn't be able to resist peeking at what was in that bag.

Oh, he was insufferable. Insufferable.

* * *

After spending the night away from Eloise for the sake of saving his strength, an extremely randy Remus ran about the countryside at the crack of dawn, spreading Eloise's scent all around, erect the entire time. He didn't take Rubin because with his werewolf speed, he could cover a lot of ground in a little time.

By noon, the Aurors were having problems with the male werewolves of the village, who were locked down. There were several attempts at escape by a number of males, who were badly punished and bound in chains. They would remain that way through their transformations.

Fenrir picked up the scent as he loped to a new hiding spot, stopping and becoming highly aroused as he caught Eloise on the breeze. He licked his lips, going hard immediately. He began loping toward the farm. But he wouldn't show himself until he transformed. Eloise was in heat and he meant to have her and kill anyone who got in his way.

At the farm, Rubin finished driving the huge post into the ground, then attached the thick chain and magical collar. He used the charm he placed on Eloise's quarters, so the muggle wouldn't be able to pull the post out of the ground when she transformed. Eloise was the bait.

Both she and Remus were hard put not to mate. She was at her peak now and longed for male contact. Rubin had to keep shooing them away from each other. They kept snuffling and licking whenever they could.

"You need your strength, Remus! Fenrir will be able to knock you over with a quill if you get at that woman," Rubin scolded him, "Do you want to fail?"

This sobered Remus. Abstinence now meant having Eloise for a lifetime if he succeeded. He had to succeed.

There was the sound of apparition as Severus and Albus appeared, Rubin letting them in. Severus eyed the stake, chain and collar in the middle of the ground and the open barn door.

"You're just in time to help me herd the cattle in," Rubin said to the wizards.

Severus sighed. Now he was a ranch hand as well. He and Albus followed Rubin over and helped him get about forty of the beasts into the barn.

Rubin looked them over with satisfaction. They were strong, healthy cattle.

"Good," he said. Then he checked the rolls of silver fencing attached to either side of the barn doors. He flicked his wand at them and they unrolled at an amazing speed across the yard and stopping at the perimeter fencing forming a kind of corridor. Rubin then rolled it back, satisfied.

"So far so good," he said to the wizards, then looked up at the sun. It was starting to set, "You two better get into your positions. I have to go get ready."

Albus and Severus climbed up into the loft of the barn. They had been careful to cast the spell removing their scent. They were to wait here and observe the plan in action. If something went wrong, they would fly to Remus' aid, wands blasting.

Rubin walked up to the stake and looked over at the table where Remus and Eloise sat nuzzling.

"Eloise, it's time," Rubin called.

Eloise kissed Remus.

"I believe in you," she said softly, "Kill him, Remus."

The werewolf nodded, his heart full. He watched as Eloise walked over to Rubin, who clasped the collar around her neck. It tightened, but not too tight. It wouldn't release her until morning. She looked back at Remus soberly. This was the moment.

Rubin hurried inside and opened the box containing his silvered clothing. Gods, they stunk to high heaven…but that wasn't the worst of it. He gathered up the pungent clothing and walked into his bathroom. He looked at the small bottle of yellow liquid sitting on the sink. Remus' gift.

Werewolf urine. A little went a loooong way.

Rubin divestoed his clothing and cast the scent removal spell on his body. He pulled on a pair of underwear, then dressed in the reeking shirt and pants. He took a deep breath, picked up the small bottle of urine, opened it and sprinkled it liberally all over himself. He set it back down on the sink. Whew! What a stench!

Werewolves would love him. At least Eloise and Remus would.

* * *

A/N: Outside of Fenrir's AU history, this has to be one of the grossest chapters I've ever written. Lol. Pads and Piss. Geez. Lolol. Thanks for reading. 


	16. Part 16

**A Song for Severus Part 16**

Darkness rolled like slow black oil over the landscape, shadow advancing, following the descent of the sun below the horizon, stars slowly winking into view from the east, and it felt as if the entire world were holding its breath.

Fenrir, waiting a mile or two away, paced restlessly at the forest's edge, waiting for moonrise and transformation. At the farm, Severus and Albus lay on their bellies in the straw of the loft, peering out the opened barn door at the chained muggle, cattle lowing below them. The animals could smell the wolf scent on Eloise and Remus and it made the creatures nervous as it became even more pronounced.

Remus sat tense at the table, his eyes on Eloise, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, her back leaning against the stake, playing idly with the long length of chain attaching her to it as she stared through the fence across the field, watching the silver halo ascending over the trees. Remus swallowed reflexively as the first curve of the moon became visible. This was the werewolf's moment. It was as if all his life had been funneled to this one act of courage and revenge.

He wouldn't fail Eloise or himself.

Rubin sat in the chair in the parlor, looking through the window. He had parted the curtain. He ran his finger over the edge of a sharp dagger with a silver blade, before inserting it into a sheathe attached to his belt loop. It wasn't much protection but could do damage. The farmer hoped that he wouldn't have to draw it on Remus when the time came. He waited for the howl that would start what Rubin hoped would be the end.

It came. Not from the farmyard, but from the distance. A long, piercing howl ringing through the darkness. The full moon hit Fenrir first, and he transformed. With a snarl he began loping toward the farm and Eloise.

Rubin stood up, drew a deep breath and slowly walked to the door. He opened it and stood on the porch looking up as the moon presented itself. Eloise let out a cry that turned into a howl as she too transformed quickly, then began wrestling and pulling against the chain that held her wildly, snarling and scratching at it with her claws, before sinking her teeth into the stake.

Then Remus transformed, turning over the table as his form changed, his face elongating, his body sprouting a tail and long gray fur. His arms thinned and hands thickened to paws, fingernails blackening, lengthening and turning into wicked curved claws. He drew back his lips reveal sharp fangs and howled a challenge to Fenrir's distant call.

Fenrir heard it and growled viciously, increasing his gait.

On the porch, Rubin swallowed, then began to walk across the yard and toward the barn, not making eye contact with Remus, who immediately dropped to all fours and charged toward him, teeth bared.

Rubin turned and faced him, holding up his hands.

"Remus! Stop! It's me! Rubin!" the farmer cried out.

Remus did stop, only a foot or so away and reared up on his hind legs, saliva dripping from his jaws, his yellow eyes narrowed as he looked down on the farmer. The suddenly, he stopped baring his teeth, dropped down and began to snuffle the farmer. He smelled of werewolf. Of himself and…and Eloise…and of territory. Remus sniffed Rubin all over, the farmer staying stock still.

"Let's hope Remus doesn't try to take a chunk out of him," Severus whispered.

Remus' ear flicked toward the barn. He had heard Severus, and he turned toward the structure, scenting the air. He didn't smell him and good thing too. He turned back to Remus as Albus put a finger to his lips, warning the Potions Master not to speak again. Severus already knew that…now.

Remus returned to snuffling Rubin, and…apparently deciding the farmer was all right and somehow his territory, Remus turned, lifted his leg and urinated on his trouser leg. Then he scratched up the earth with his hind legs a bit and marched stiff-legged toward Eloise, who was panting from her efforts to escape.

Hot piss soaking his leg, Rubin hurried over to his position by the barn, the lowing of the cows becoming louder and the animals more restless as the werewolf scent filled the barn. They all backed up, battering the walls with their movement, the whites of their eyes showing.

Eloise stood up and snarled at Remus. The werewolf quickly charged her, throwing his body into hers full weight and driving her back, then catching her by the scruff of the neck and holding her, growling until she sunk back down to all fours, Remus' forelegs around her body, his furry chest resting against her back as he held on. Then he shuffled around, pulling her upward by the neck a bit until she was in position, whimpering slightly, her tail twisted to the side, revealing her sex. Remus' huge pink erection glistened in the moonlight, and he entered her with a growl.

"Oh dear gods," Severus groaned as the werewolves started copulating. What else was he going to be subjected to? Then he got a good whiff of Rubin who was standing in the shadows by the barn doors. The wizard's eyes watered. He couldn't even mutter a freshening charm.

Suddenly a long howl sounded from the rise. Rubin and Remus looked up, the werewolf dismounting with a savage snarl as Fenrir stood on his hind legs silhouetted by the moon crying out a challenge. Then he dropped and barreled down the rise toward the farm and the fence.

Remus turned and snarled at Eloise, driving her as far back as she could go on her chain and bullying her until she lay down on the ground completely. Then he turned, walked forward a few paces and took up a defensive position.

Fenrir pulled up short at the fence. This hadn't been here before. He howled in frustration as he saw the low mesh top and began to pace back and forth, snarling and howling at Remus and calling to Eloise, who looked up with interest at the wolf. She knew it was Fenrir, but her instincts were responding to him, overriding her hatred. She stood up and whined.

Remus immediately charged her, snarling and forcing her back down, mouthing her muzzle with his teeth in warning. She was to stay down. She belonged to him.

The two werewolves continued to torment each other until both were foaming at the mouths to get at the other, Eloise whining and standing up from time to time, and Remus running at her, punishing her for responding by nipping her flanks. She almost tried to fight him but he knocked her to her back and clamped his mouth over her throat, growling fiercely. Eloise finally got the message. When he released her, she stayed down.

Severus was just beginning to wonder what Rubin was waiting for when suddenly the fence in front of Fenrir rolled back, the werewolf cautiously entering. He didn't see Rubin who was in the shadows and smelled of nothing but werewolf. It was the same scent all over the farmyard.

Remus let out an angry yelp as the larger werewolf slunk into the enclosure. Fenrir spun as the fence rolled back, trapping him inside. His great shaggy head swung back and forth as he examined the fence, then he spun again, facing Remus and scenting the tantalizing female cowering behind him. Fenrir could smell Remus and there was not any fear or submission in his scent. In fact, he smelled of nothing but challenge and anger. Different. Alpha.

So the werewolf had grown some balls. No matter. He'd snap them off.

Remus rose to his hind legs, glaring and snarling at the intruder, his canine face so contorted with rage it was a mass of wrinkles. His long eye-teeth glistened under the night sky.

"Get him closer, Remus," Rubin breathed, just a bit closer.

Suddenly Remus charged Fenrir.

"NOOOOO!" Rubin cried as the werewolves crashed together, snarling and biting savagely, a rolling, snapping ball of flying fur and gnashing teeth. They separated, their muzzles red with blood, Remus' ears flat against his head as he panted.

Fenrir glared at the werewolf. He was bigger and stronger than Remus, but Remus was driven by the fury of the beast. He was protecting what was his. Normally werewolves wouldn't fight to the death over a female…only until one was defeated. But Fenrir wanted to kill Remus, and Remus was willing to kill Fenrir because the larger werewolf couldn't leave his territory.

"Get away from him, Remus…you're in the way," Rubin thought anxiously.

The farmer didn't realize that Remus would attack first. He thought he would back away from the larger wolf's approach. They had gone over the plan, but this was only the second time Remus transformed without the wolfsbane potion and he didn't retain what he was told.

The two werewolves clashed again, Remus managing to knock the larger werewolf to his back and trying to tear into his belly, but Fenrir kicked him off with his hind legs, shredding one of his ears in the process, then leaping on the smaller wolf. But they were muzzle to muzzle, slashing and biting, ripping at each other's faces horribly. Remus got hold of Fenrir's cheek and torn a hunk of flesh out of it, the larger werewolf yelping and leaping away for a moment.

Remus mouthed the flesh openly, then swallowed it down.

Blood poured from Fenrir's face for a minute before his healing powers kicked in, but the wound didn't heal completely. Another werewolf has caused it. Fenrir began to try and circle Remus, who kept his head toward the larger werewolf. Then, using his experience, Fenrir feinted and Remus leapt to the side he thought the wolf was attacking from, leaving his left foreleg open. Fenrir's jaws closed on it with a sickening crunch, Remus howling with pain before ripping into the werewolf's head so viciously Fenrir let him go. Remus limped back, his leg useless now. Fenrir's eyes glittered. Remus was seriously hurt…he couldn't fight him now. The werewolf crouched ready for the death blow.

Suddenly there was a rattling sound and fence rolled on either side of the werewolf, Remus left standing on the outside. The werewolves had separated far enough for Rubin to unroll it, trapping Fenrir in the corridor. The farmer ran around the back of the barn, tore the door open and charged the cattle, yelling at the top of his voice. The cattle were wild with terror anyway because of the battle outside, the scent of blood in the air. The startled animals lowed in terror as the scent of werewolf washed over them strongly. A wolf was in the barn!

Terrified, they did what all cattle do in that situation…they stampeded out of the barn, charging toward the snarling Fenrir, whose rose on his hind legs threateningly. But there was no stopping the charging mass of hooves, horns and whirling eyes. Fenrir was carried back then disappeared under the beasts, trampled and crushed as they ran over him. They stopped at the far side of the fencing, where they huddled together lowing fearfully.

Rubin rolled back the fence. Fenrir lay there, still alive but broken, weak. Yet he was already starting to recover…his bones knitting together.

"Damn it! Get him Remus!" Rubin shouted at the werewolf. Remus looked at the wildly gesticulating man for a moment, then at Fenrir, who was trying to rise.

Suddenly he snarled and charged the injured wolf, limping quickly. Fenrir snarled and tried to fend Remus off of him, but the werewolf was crazed for blood and desperate, latching on to Fenrir's throat and tearing out a large hunk of it, Fenrir gurgling as he tried to howl, scratch ineffectively at the creature once again tearing at his throat. His eyes glazing, Fenrir tasted his own blood and felt lethargic….there was no longer any pain as Remus continued tearing out hunks of flesh.

Fenrir fell still…obviously dead…but Remus didn't stop biting until he reached bone, and bit through that, severing the werewolf's head from its body. There was no coming back from that. Fenrir was truly dead.

Remus picked up Fenrir's head in his mouth and carried it over to Eloise, who was standing now, watching Remus limping toward her, Fenrir's furry head swinging from his jaws. Remus stopped in front of her, and dropped Fenrir's head on the ground, then turned and balancing precariously on his one good foreleg, lifted his back on and shakily urinated on it. Then he let out a long howl of victory, then dropped to the ground panting heavily. Eloise lay down beside him and began to tenderly lick his shattered leg and torn muzzle.

Rubin let out a sigh of relief. They'd done it. They had killed Fenrir Greyback. His son and wife had been avenged, as were many others.

Albus and Severus lay in the loft, looking at the werewolves.

"Do you think we should come down?" Albus asked the Potions Master.

Severus looked at Fenrir's severed head and the werewolves lying together, Remus' eyes closed as Eloise licked his face and torn ear. They looked peaceful enough, but Remus probably wouldn't know who they were, and it would be a shame to hex him after he'd gone through such a battle.

"No, I think we should make ourselves comfortable until sunrise," Severus replied, sliding further into the loft. At least the hay was fresh.

Rubin walked back to the house and headed for the kitchen to retrieve several raw steaks. He returned to the yard and carefully walked toward the two werewolves, who looked at him attentively but made no attempt to rise. He stopped about ten feet away and threw them the steaks. Both tails thumped the ground for a moment, then they began to feed. Rubin knelt.

"You did it, Remus. You killed him," he said in a soothing voice.

Remus looked at Rubin out the corner of his eye and growled. The farmer was kind of close while he was eating. Eloise's tail thumped again as she looked at the farmer. She knew who he was. A friend. Soon Remus would know that too.

"You two go ahead and eat," Rubin said, rising slowly so he didn't upset Remus, "I'll talk to you in the morning."

He backed away from the werewolves then called over to the barn.

"Good night Albus. Professor," he said with a smirk.

They had forgotten this small detail of Severus and Albus leaving the farm. The fencing had a built in dampening charm to prohibit apparition. It would take hours to remove it. Remus probably wouldn't take kindly to them walking across his territory, especially since when word got around to the other werewolves about Fenrir's death, he'd be considered the new Alpha Male.

Severus snuggled down into the hay as Albus did likewise, complaining a little about his bursitis before finding a comfortable position. They hadn't been needed at all, but they could bear witness before the Ministry how Remus killed Fenrir. There was quite a reward due the wizard for taking down Fenrir Greyback…enough to make him quite wealthy. Albus would be damned if he didn't get it.

Werewolf or not, he had earned it.

* * *

The next morning after a hearty breakfast, a bath for the two werewolves (which Severus greatly appreciated) and some light doctoring on Remus' shattered left arm, Rubin, Albus, Severus, Remus and Eloise set off for Hogwarts.

Remus was going to be treated by Madame Pomfrey, since St. Mungos didn't accept werewolf patients. After he was seen, they were all going to sit down and discuss their next move. Albus wanted Hermione to sit in on the talk to see what she could add.

Fenrir's body was moved to the barn and a stasis spell put on it. His head was deposited in a burlap sack, also with a stasis spell on it to keep it fresh. His body had returned to human form at sunrise. It was his final transformation. Remus insisted on carrying Fenrir's head himself, his eyes going a bit black-veined when it was suggested someone else carry it because of his arm.

"It's not a bone, Lupin," Severus snapped at him, "It's a head."

Remus bared his teeth at Severus who gave him an "I wish you would" look, his hand clamped firmly around the base of his wand in his pocket.

Sensing the beginning of what could be a very unpleasant altercation, Albus said to let the wizard hang on to the head.

Linking arms, the group apparated outside the castle. Albus removed the ward on the gates and they all entered, walking across the grounds toward the castle.

"I haven't seen Hogwarts in years," Rubin said, his eyes shining as they approached the school, "It hasn't changed much."

"Only the curriculum, Rubin," Albus said smiling.

Eloise was staring at the castle in fascination. It was beautiful. She started when she saw people zooming around the turrets on broomsticks. What a strange and wonderful world she was in.

The group entered the castle and received curious stares as students greeted the Headmaster and Professor Snape, who snapped at them to stop gawking and get to class. They skittered away, not even looking over their shoulders.

Severus headed down the dungeon corridor to retrieve Hermione from her lab as the rest of the group continued on to Albus' office.

Eloise didn't much like the shifting stairwells and clung to Remus' good arm as they ascended and stepped on to corresponding landings. She was relieved when they finally got off and headed down a nice, stable corridor. They stopped in front of a perfectly horrendous statue of something that looked like a demon. Albus said the password and Eloise snarled in reaction as the statue came to life and leapt away, revealing a spiral staircase behind it. She could have sworn the ugly statue grinned at her wickedly as she walked up the stairs. She shuddered. The magical world was very, very strange.

* * *

Hermione was in her lab, once again wearing the huge magnifying goggles when Severus entered. When she saw him, she launched herself at him, pulling him down by the neck and kissing him soundly.

Severus pulled back and stared into her enlarged eyes.

"You're back! I was so worried about you!" Hermione said to him.

Severus frowned slightly.

"Could you please remove those spectacles or whatever they are? Your resemblance to Sybil Trelawney is quite disturbing," the wizard said to her.

Hermione released him, removed the goggles and set them on the counter, then covered her work with the glass bowl. She turned to look at him.

"So what happened?" she asked the wizard.

"Remus was successful. Fenrir Greyback is dead," he replied.

Hermione clapped her hands together in joy.

"That's wonderful!" she said, "Was he injured?"

Severus nodded.

"A shattered arm, shredded ear and some scratches and bites on his face. But he'll live. No doubt Poppy is treating him now," the Potions Master replied.

"He's here! Oh Severus, I want to see him," she cried, pulling off her lab coat hurriedly.

"That's why I came to retrieve you. We are having a bit of a meeting and would like you to sit in on it," the wizard said, "We need to decide how to move forward now. There was quite a price on Fenrir's head, literally."

"How much?" Hermione asked him.

"One million galleons," Severus replied evenly.

Hermione's eyes turned to saucers and her mouth worked silently for a moment.

"A million galleons?" she repeated

"Yes. Over the years the pot has grown, outside sources, families, organization etc adding to the reward. It topped out at a million. Now, it belongs to Remus and I imagine Mr. Fezwig. We are of the opinion that while the Ministry will turn half the money over to Rubin, they will not give Remus his due because of his malady. A werewolf doesn't need half a million galleons," Severus said as Hermione scowled.

"Oh really?" she said, her jaw set, "Well, we'll just see about that. Let's go."

Severus smirked as Hermione stormed out of the lab, her little legs taking big strides. He followed her, his black eyes on her body, noting the angry signals it was sending off. If this were any indication…whoever tried to thwart Remus Lupin was going to get quite an earful from one Miss Hermione Granger.

When they hit the dungeon corridor, Hermione began marching up it. Severus stopped in front of his office door and let her get a little distance before he called her.

"It would be faster to floo to Albus' office," the wizard said.

Hermione walked back, an irritated look on her face as Severus opened the door, then stopped…frowning as he saw Bartholomew in his file cabinet. Bartholomew froze.

"Pro…Professor Snape," Bartholomew said, surprised as the wizard swooped in and stood in front of him, frowning.

"Bartholomew," the Potions Master said curtly as Hermione stood behind him, wide-eyed, "What are you doing in my file cabinet?"

Bartholomew swallowed.

"I was looking for old class work you assigned for reviewing, sir," Bartholomew said, then added, "I mean…since I am teaching the class I should have access to the work of previous years to make sure I am following your basic format. I just want to do a good job."

Severus' lip quirked.

"You mean you want to make sure your students can pass my final exam," the Potions Master said.

"Well, yes…I do," Bartholomew admitted.

Severus studied the assistant for a moment.

"Proceed," he said shortly, walking to the wall and pulling it open, "I suspect your students are going to need all the help they can get."

The wizard walked through his study, followed by Hermione, then the wall closed. Bartholomew let out a sigh of relief. The wizard was allowed access to Severus' office and in fact, his files as well. The Potions Master was just giving him a hard time.

"Doesn't it bother you that Bartholomew might be able to enter your private study?" Hermione asked the wizard as they approached the fireplace.

"He wouldn't dare," the wizard said darkly, "Besides, only you and I can pull the torch to open the wall. It is warded to our signatures. If anyone else attempts it…well, let's just say the results will be loud, painful and long-lasting."

Hermione hadn't known this…but should have figured Severus would not leave his rooms unprotected.

She walked up to the fireplace and watched as the wizard tossed in the floo powder.

"Dumbledore's office," the wizard said.

The flames turned green and Severus stepped aside.

"After you," he said with a slight bow.

As Hermione walked past, he swatted her on her soft ass, the witch squealing and still doing so when she entered Albus' office, red-faced with her hand covering her right buttock. Severus entered behind her, looking solemn Hermione quickly regained her composure as Eloise smiled at her knowingly.

"Ah Hermione, glad you could join us," Albus said, "You know Remus of course, and Eloise, and Rubin."

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding at each of them with a smile, "Hello everyone."

They all greeted Hermione. She and Severus sat down in adjacent armchairs Albus had arranged in a circle. Hermione looked at Remus' arm in the sling and the streaks of salve on his face and ear.

"How are you, Remus?" she asked him softly.

"Fine, Hermione. Poppy treated my arm and said it should heal completely in about a week. She also gave me some salve to promote healing and prevent scarring on my face and ear," he replied.

"That's good," she said, looking down at the burlap bag between his feet curiously, "What's in the bag?"

Severus smirked. Hermione hadn't learned her lesson first.

"Let her see, Remus," the Potions Master said.

"No! It's Fenrir's head, Hermione," Eloise said, glowering at Severus, who quirked his lip.

"Fenrir's head!" Hermione gasped, then frowned blackly at the Potions Master.

"We brought it as proof of Fenrir's demise. Remus has to turn it in at Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures. Of course, the main worry is they will confiscate the head and not give him credit, collecting the reward on their own and dividing it among themselves," Albus said darkly.

"They're nothing but thieves," Eloise hissed.

"Reward?" Remus said, sounding a bit lost. He hadn't even thought about a reward for killing Fenrir.

"Oh yes, my boy. There is a million galleon reward on Fenrir's head, which you have conveniently resting on the floor between your feet," Albus said with a broad smile.

Eloise's eyes went round. She wasn't sure how much that was in pounds…but she was sure it was a hell of a lot of money.

"A…a million galleons?" Remus gasped, seeming unable to process such a large amount of money.

"Yes," Albus reiterated, "A…million…galleons."

Remus stared at him, then at Eloise…then at Rubin.

"Rubin, we…we'll split it. I couldn't have killed Fenrir without your help," he said to the farmer, who held up his hand and shook his head.

"You can have it. I don't need that kind of money. I'm old, settled and having enough money invested that I live comfortably. I wouldn't have the first idea what to do with it. You however, you have a whole lifetime ahead of you," the farmer said, looking at Eloise meaningfully.

Remus looked at Eloise.

"Yes. Yes I do. We do," he said softly as his eyes met hers. She gave him a smile. But then Remus frowned.

"But they won't release that money to me. I'm a werewolf. I can't even have an account at Gringotts," Remus said bitterly.

"They will release it to you, Remus," Hermione said vehemently. Suddenly magic swirled in the air. An oath.

Oh good gods.

Severus pinched his nose as Hermione's next crusade took form. The "Making Remus a Wealthy Werewolf " crusade. More than likely he'd be in for a sexual dry spell.

"We're all ears, Miss Granger," Albus said with a smile. He had hoped Hermione would take the initiative.

And she did.

* * *

Prophet columnist and reporter Rita Skeeter sat at her desk in her small office, fiddling with a quill with her big, manicured and rather mannish hands. Her photographer Bilbo was fiddling with his camera, sitting in a folding chair against the far wall as he removed the lens and blew into it, holding it up to the window and looking through it.

"I tell you Bilbo…I'm tired of scraping about for interesting stories. There's nothing going on now since they rounded up the Death Eaters. The rumors about them practically kept me going. Now it's all court dates and sentences, mundane, dull, boring actually. My readers like stories they can sink their teeth into, and there's hardly anything out here. I can't stand it," she complained, viciously digging the point of her quill into her desktop, "I actually had to pull out an old column yesterday, Bilbo. If this keeps up, Gabby and I are going to be looking for a new place to live."

Rita was paid by the story and according to the story's worth as news. She hadn't been making much money lately. Gabby was her pet weredog, and he ate voraciously.

"Something will come up, Rita. It always does," Bilbo said, still fiddling with his camera and not looking up.

Rita frowned at him.

"You're such a comfort, Bilbo," she said sarcastically.

Bilbo looked up at her, the sarcasm going right over his fat, little head.

"I try," he replied.

Rita sighed in exasperation.

Suddenly there was a knock on the office door.

"Oh, what is it now?" Rita grumbled. Probably one of the secretaries with another warning from her boss about getting a story to him pronto.

"Who is it?" Rita called out bad-naturedly.

"It's Hermione Granger," Hermione called from the other side of the door.

"Hermione Granger?" Rita mouthed at Bilbo who looked at her with shock.

Hermione Granger was not Rita's most favorite person in the world. The little witch had bested her a number of time, and still had the means to blackmail the reporter if she wanted to. Hermione was the reason she was out of work for a while, though she got her job back when Hermione arranged an interview with Harry years ago that put her back in the spotlight as a star reporter.

Rita patted her hard, unmoving blonde curls, adjusted her green jeweled glasses and took her quick-quotes quill out of her handbag, just in case.

"Come in, Miss Granger," Rita said, her eyes narrowed as the door opened and Hermione walked in. Rita hadn't seen her in some time but the witch had matured a bit.

"I wish I could say what a pleasure it is to see you, Miss Granger," the reporter said as Hermione sat down in the chair in front of her without an invite, "but I can't"

"The feeling's mutual, Rita," Hermione snapped, her eyes dark with dislike, "But pleasure or not…there's a reason I'm here. I have a story for you. An exclusive story."

"Don't tell me. You've developed a spell to end world hunger," Rita sneered at her.

Hermione stood up.

"Fine Rita…you want to pass on this? I'll find another reporter to accompany us to the Ministry and write the story as it happens. The only reason I came to you in the first place was that I noticed your column has been rather…uninteresting and I know you know how to sensationalize matters. It could have worked out for everyone involved but…" Hermione said, starting to walk toward the door.

Rita looked at the witch. Hermione was unbearable, but she wasn't stupid. She had something big going on…Rita's reporter instinct could tell.

"Wait. Wait, Hermione!" the reporter cried out, "I'm sorry. You know we don't get along. I couldn't help taking a stab at you. Please, sit down and tell me what this is about."

Hermione looked at her coldly.

"Please," Rita said again. She couldn't let the witch leave.

With an aggravated sigh, Hermione sat back down. Bilbo was aiming his camera on her, using her to check his focus.

"Now what is this story about?" Rita asked her.

"Fenrir Greyback is dead," Hermione said.

Bilbo looked up from his camera, his eyes narrowed. Oh man. Photo Op if he ever heard one.

"Dead?" Rita gasped.

"Yes, and no one knows yet except the people who witnessed his death," Hermione continued.

"There's a million galleon reward on Fenrir's head," Rita said in a low voice, her wheels turning. What a story this would be…and she'd have an exclusive.

"Yes…but the question is will the person be allowed to collect the reward?" Hermione said, feeling the reporter's excitement.

"What? Of course he will if he has proof Fenrir's dead and he killed him," Rita said.

"Oh, he has proof all right. Fenrir's severed head," Hermione said, dangling the juicy information in front of Rita.

"Oh dear gods. His head? His head, Bilbo!" Rita said to the photographer, who was sitting on the edge of his seat now…his finger already on the camera's shutter button in anticipation. Rita looked back at Hermione.

"So who killed him?" Rita asked in a low voice.

"Remus Lupin," Hermione replied.

Rita could have orgasmed right there.

"Remus Lupin? Remus Lupin the werewolf? Oh…they're not going to want to give him that money. He's a werewolf. But still…is that right? He did kill the most elusive and deadly murderer in the wizarding world…most likely at great peril to his own life. So what if he's a werewolf? He deserves that money…doesn't he, Bilbo? Yes. Yes, he does. Oh this is going to cause quite a controversy. Quite a controversy," Rita spouted, talking to herself as she began to figure out how to approach the story to make it the most compelling. She looked at Hermione.

"Is anyone going with him to the Ministry?" Rita asked.

"Yes. His fertile mate, Eloise Hedgeberry…she's a muggle who was bitten by Fenrir. She has full rights because she is under British law…" Hermione began.

"A fertile werewolf bitch? Oh my gods…this is…this is NEWS!" Rita raged.

"Oh there's more. Albus Dumbledore will be with him, as well as Professor Severus Snape and Rubin Fezwig. They all witnessed Remus kill Fenrir firsthand," Hermione said, "And I'll be there too."

This time, Rita did get a gush in her knickers.

"Circe, Albus Dumbledore…Severus Snape…who is Rubin Fezwig?" she asked Hermione as her quick-quotes quill came to life and started scribbling down the basic facts of the matter.

He is the farmer who owns the land Fenrir was killed on," Hermione replied.

"Excellent. Wonderful…oh my," Rita said under her breath. Then she looked thoughtful.

"You know…I really think there should be someone else there," Rita said, "When are you all planning on going to the Ministry?"

"Today. After I leave here," Hermione said.

Rita looked a bit conspiratory as she studied Hermione.

"Do you think you can wait until tomorrow morning? I would like to send a few owls out. Nothing big, but something that can make Remus' story even more compelling," she said.

Not to mention make her readers foam at the mouth.

"Who are you going to contact?" Hermione asked, hoping there wouldn't be a leak before they got to the Ministry, "We don't want this to get to the Ministry before we do."

"Oh no. Who I'm going to contact won't say a word to the Ministry…until they get there. And when they do…they will say it loud," Rita said.

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"I won't agree to this unless I know who you are contacting," Hermione said stubbornly.

Rita frowned. She had wanted the element of surprise, but…hell. It would still be a hot story she could milk for months to come.

"All right. Have you ever heard of FOW?" Rita asked her.

Hermione shook her head.

They're an organization no one puts much stock in. But there are at least five hundred of them. I interviewed the president of the organization a year or two ago as filler for my column. FOW stands for the "Friends of Werewolves." They are fighting for werewolf rights. This is just what they need to get the ball rolling. What a fuss they'll make!" Rita said.

Hermione smiled broadly.

"All right, Rita…tomorrow morning it is," she beamed.

The reporter beamed back at her.

"Remus Lupin is going to be one wealthy werewolf," the reporter said, "And I'm going to be right back on top again. Right Bilbo?"

Bilbo nodded, smiling broadly He was going to get some fantastic photos. Fantastic photos meant fantastic galleons.

"Right in one, Rita," he replied, looking at Hermione as if she were made of gold.

* * *

When Rita and Bilbo walked into Prophet Editor Barnabas Cuffe's office, the gray-haired, gray-eyed wizard turned his sharp eyes on the pair with a look of resignation.

"It's about time, Rita. What have you got for me today? I hope no more rumors about the illegitimate child of Bigfoot and a Crumple-horned Snorkack running about the mountains of America, seeking muggle women to mate with," the editor said as Rita winced and handed him her parchment. Bilbo slid a photograph across the large mahogany desk.

"Well, it was interesting," Rita said lamely.

"But it wasn't news. Save that crap for the Quibbler," Barnabas snorted, shaking out the parchment and taking a look at it.

His bushy eyebrows lifted, then he grabbed Bilbo's photo and stared at it. Then he looked up at Rita, his face pure white with shock.

"Merlin's tattered boxers, Rita! How did you find out about this?" he asked her in a low, controlled voice, staring at the photograph again.

"A little witch told me," Rita smirked, "So, Barnabas, you think that might make it to the front page? Or maybe I should hop a broom over to the Quibbler. It's not about a Snorkack…but they might still be interested, don't you think?"

Rita and Bilbo went back to Hogwarts with Hermione and Rita grilled a hesitant Remus Lupin, a delighted Albus Dumbledore, a thoughtful Rubin Fezwig and a scowling, rather snappish Severus Snape about the death of Fenrir, then set up an interview with Eloise to share her views concerning being the only werewolf with full human rights in the wizarding world.

"Rita Skeeter, don't even joke about that. This is SENSATIONAL!" Barnabas shouted, jumping up and doing a little dance of glee. Rita and Bilbo looked at each other.

"My gods, the papers are going to fly off the shelves when they get a gander at this picture. It's a bit gory but hell…it's going to sell, sell, sell! You've both outdone yourselves."

"I forgot to tell you, it's an exclusive. No one else has this information. We've scooped it," Rita added.

Barnabas' mouth dropped opened and he turned all kinds of alarming colors as he gripped the article in his hand even tighter. Suddenly, the editor ran around his desk with such speed both Rita's and Bilbo's robes rustled as he passed.

"I've got to get this to press immediately! Immediately! Expect one hell of a bonus for this, you two. One hell of a bonus!" he cried, disappearing out the door.

Normally, Barnabas had one of his clerks take articles to press, but this article was too valuable to place in the hands of a clerk. Barnabas would hover over the printing for the rest of the evening.

Rita looked at Bilbo with a satisfied expression.

"Well, Bilbo, looks like we're back on top," she said to the chubby photographer, who nodded enthusiastically, "Come on…I want to get over to the Ministry and do a little background research on Mr. Fenrir Greyback. He is dead after all…and we all know he was a killer, but how did he become a werewolf? Who were his parents? Was he always vicious? Did he lead a life of crime from the very beginning? The people have a right to know the profile of a killer, don't you think, Bilbo? I think so, and what I think…goes."

Rita walked quickly out of the office, Bilbo following behind.

As nosey, annoying and mudslinging as Rita Skeeter was, the reporter sure knew how to make a story blow up.

There was going to be a world of fallout from this one.

* * *

Remus, Severus, Rubin and Albus sat in the Headmaster's office relaxing, enjoying a few firewhiskeys and talking among themselves. Well, Albus, Remus and Rubin were talking. Severus was just listening, mulling over his own thoughts.

"I want to marry Eloise," Remus said suddenly.

Every eye in the room turned on the wizard.

"Marry her, Remus?" Rubin repeated, a small grin on his face, "Don't tell me the wolf is ready to be collared?"

"More than ready," Remus said, his eyes getting a faraway look, "We are mates for life now. It's only right we marry and make it legal in the eyes of the law."

Albus looked at him, then said softly, "Remus, you know it is against the law for werewolves to marry."

Severus studied Remus. He had known the muggle for such a short time but was willing to make a lifelong commitment to her. He certainly didn't hedge when it came to matters of love. This made the Potions Master think of Hermione. He was no longer a spy, but a free wizard. A free man.

"Yes, I know Albus, but I'm hoping since Eloise has rights, they will extend to her right to marry who she chooses," Remus said, "I don't want anyone else trying to take her from me. I can be constantly challenged for her if I don't marry her. It would be battle after battle and I don't want that. I want peace in my life…I've never had it until her."

Severus snorted.

"Yes…peace. That's what you call fighting and defeating the most vicious werewolf in existence? That peace came at quite a high price, Remus," Severus observed, taking a sip of his firewhiskey.

"It was worth it, Severus. Love is worth fighting for," the werewolf replied, looking into the flames and imagining Eloise in his arms, crying out with passion. His eyes went black-veined for a moment as he remembered her fire for him. "I'd fight a thousand Fenrirs for her. She means that much to me."

"Be glad there was only one Fenrir in that case," Severus snorted.

But his snort wasn't as derisive as it sounded.

Two years ago, the Potions Master would have branded Remus a damn fool, led by his libido. But now that he was in love himself, he knew how the werewolf felt. He too would face a thousand enemies to keep Hermione in his life. The witch was part of him now. Oh, he still had his own life, his own separate existence and being. He still found satisfaction in his own pursuits and treasured his time alone with himself. It was just that Hermione added light to his solitary existence…a new dimension of possibility and growth. She added humanity, kindness, understanding and most of all love. He was more with her than he would be alone.

If Hermione were to ever leave him, he would feel her loss for the rest of his life. It would be as if the sun itself had been blanketed with darkness.

He was used to the sun now.

He finished his drink as the three wizards continued their conversation. Yet Severus wasn't truly there.

Later that evening, he returned to his rooms, brooding and thoughtful. He looked around his study, then walked into his bedroom and looked at his empty bed. He stood there, his dark eyes scanning the rather stark, stoic room. For some reason, it felt cold…colder than it had ever felt before.

Severus suddenly had a strong desire to see Hermione…just to see her smile softly at him, her amber eyes full of affection…of love. The Potions Master shook his head as if trying to throw off the feeling of need washing over him. He stood there, his belly growing tight as he realized what was coming over him.

"Damn Remus," he growled, "All that talk of marriage is haunting me."

But wasn't that what he planned all along? To ask Hermione to marry him when the spy work was over? Yes it was. But was Hermione willing to marry him? She was still attending school and had so much she wanted to do. Not that he would stop her. Getting married wouldn't mean they'd be joined at the hip. She would be free to do what she wanted, with the exception of ever engaging another wizard as long as she drew breath, that is.

Most of all, marriage would let other wizards know Hermione belonged to him. They had kept their relationship in the dark for far too long, and there were times Severus had to bear the obvious flirtations of other wizards, unable to do anything but clench his hands with jealousy, and of course take Hermione thoroughly when he got her in his bed again, making her tell him over and over that she only belonged to him and wanted no one else.

The wizard wasn't as secure as he appeared to be. Severus felt Hermione was a gem, and like all gems, subject to theft. Hermione was his treasure. He didn't want anyone to steal her away. Yes, he could always confront a suitor, or even duel one, but the answer was to marry the witch.

Severus began to rationalize a situation that was primarily born of great emotion, something he wasn't comfortable with. Breaking marriage down into something based on logic made it easier to pretend it just plain made sense to do it.

If he proposed to Hermione and she accepted, it would just be an agreement. A binding contract between two people with similar tastes who got along well and would like to continue exclusively. Getting married would simply would mean they each were committed to the other.

Yes…that was what it would mean. They were committed to each other…for life.

Life could be a long time.  
Severus thought it would be even longer without her.

The wizard stood there for several moments more, before he turned and exited his rooms, intent on finding Hermione.

Hermione was in her rooms, making signs with moving pictures on them. One sign had an image of two werewolves that changed into two humans, a male and a female holding hands. The caption below read:

"WEREWOLVES ARE PEOPLE TOO."

Another sign had a picture of Remus on it, looking rather dashing. It had taken Bilbo a whole roll of magical film to catch the werewolf just right. Remus didn't like being photographed. Rita told him he'd better get used to it and to stick his jaw out more. This sign had a caption that changed. The first read.

'REMUS LUPIN, A TRUE HERO!"

The sign then changed to the next caption:

"FREEDOM IS FOR EVERYONE!"

And the final caption read:

"IT'S TIME FOR CHANGE!"

Hermione stepped back and admired her handiwork, then began duplicating the signs, just in case FOW needed more or people joined the demonstration. She was looking forward to this battle. It could be the beginning for a new and better life for werewolves, particularly since Rubin Fezwig was able to go into the presence of fully transformed werewolves and not be ripped to bits. Of course, he did take some rather strong precautions.

Hermione shuddered as she thought about Remus pissing on him. Oh good gods. But Eloise never showed any aggression toward Rubin. She said that she knew who he was in werewolf form and knew he was no threat. If Eloise could discern that difference only after a couple of months as a werewolf, then that bode well for others used to their transformations.

Hermione believed that any werewolf aggression toward humans stemmed from their terrible treatment when in human forms. There had been cases of people being chased by werewolves, but Fenrir was the only one who purposely killed them. For all anyone knew, the werewolves were simply driving people away from areas they considered their territories, and was reciprocal treatment since werewolves were banned from many human areas. It was worth looking into. Perhaps she could get permission to do an independent study at University.

Severus entered her room as Hermione was focused on recreating the signs. He read them and rolled his eyes. She was certainly gung-ho about this and most likely would join the crowd, waving signs and chanting slogans in weeks to come. Severus would be supportive, he knew mistreatment only bred anger and malevolence, but he wouldn't be waving any banners.

"Ready to rage against the machine I see," the wizard said silkily.

Hermione turned and smiled at him.

There it was. That love. Severus felt his heart skip a bit, then scowled inwardly at himself. He was reacting like a smitten sixth-year. He cleared his throat.

"Oh yes. More than ready," Hermione agreed, "What do you think?"

Severus studied the signs, focusing on the brave, dashing Remus image.

"I think they will be quite effective," he said honestly, "Remus is fortunate to have you in his corner…as am I."

Hermione stared at him.

"Severus, that's so sweet," she said, putting down her wand.

Severus tried to ignore the "sweet" statement, and cleared his throat again…walking up to the witch and taking her hand.

"Hermione, sit down," he said, leading her to the sofa and moving a pile of signs aside.

He helped her sit, then sat down beside her, still holding on to her hand.

"Remember several months ago I told you there were things I wanted for us, things I wanted to pursue with you?" he asked the witch.

Gods, his stomach was starting to churn.

"Yes, I do, Severus," Hermione said softly, looking at him curiously.

"Hermione, I think we should enter into an agreement," he said firmly.

Both of Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"An agreement? What kind of agreement?" she asked him.

"Well," the Potions Master said, hedging a bit, "The kind of agreement that…that makes a commitment between us."

"A commitment?" Hermione said, then it started to dawn on her what Severus was attempting to do, "What kind of commitment?"

"I will give you my name, and you will give me your fidelity. And children," the wizard said as if this were the most normal thing in the world, "After you do all you want to do, of course. I don't want to hinder you in any way. I just want to…to secure you and our future."

"Secure me? Tell me, Severus…does love happen to…I don't know…have something to do with this…this agreement you want to strike up with me?" Hermione asked him.

"Of course it does," he snapped, "Why would I want to make an agreement like this with a witch I didn't love? It's for a lifetime, Hermione."

Hermione stared at the wizard. Severus Snape was really in over his head here. For a moment, she felt like laughing at him, trying to make a proposal into an agreement. Then her heart caught as she realized that the wizard loved her enough to want to marry her. She felt dizzy a moment, but managed to let the feeling pass. Hermione loved him enough to agree to become his wife…but, if he wanted to marry her, his proposal would have to be much better than this.

"Well Severus, it sounds like you just want control over me. Give me your name…I give you my fidelity. You want to secure me…like tie me to you. I don't know if I like how that sounds. It's all so…clinical," she said, "I don't think I'd like to have such a clinical, cold agreement."

"Clinical? There's nothing clinical about the way I feel about you, witch," Severus said to her frowning, "I want you for my own. Forever, with my name, my protection…"

Severus faltered here as Hermione looked at him expectantly. The wizard sighed.

"…with my undying love to keep you safe and comforted," he said softly, "I have never known any woman like you, Hermione Granger, and I know I will never know another. You have brought light into my life and I don't want it ever extinguished. The only way that can happen is if you will agree to become my wife. I treasure you and will be a good husband to you. I know you are young and have much you wish to accomplish. I will help you accomplish every dream you have, witch. I will never hinder you or attempt to control you…"

Here the wizard hesitated. He didn't want to lie. They both knew he had a controlling nature.

"Well, I will be willing to discuss any matters we disagree upon in a reasonable manner, like we do now," he said, blinking.

Hermione gave him a soft smile. Their "discussions" often deteriorated into skirmishes, ending with a rousing round of sex, after which Hermione did what she wanted to do anyway. She could live with that…for now. They'd have to eventually find a better way to deal with their disagreement, but for now it worked.

"So what are you actually asking me, Severus?" she asked him softly, "Say it plainly so there are no misunderstandings between us."

Severus cleared his throat and looked into Hermione's eyes. They were soft, warm and full of love for him. He never believed anyone could ever feel such a way about him. But Hermione did. The wizard stood up, moved in front of Hermione and knelt on one knee, taking her hand and looking into her beautiful eyes, which were tearing up.

"Hermione Granger, my beloved and my only, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and accept my love for you for the rest of our days?" he asked the witch softly, his heart tight in his chest as he awaited Hermione's answer.

Hermione looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. Severus did love her, deeply and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The tears began to fall, running down her cheeks and dripping on to the back Severus' hand. His eyes flicked downward as the warm liquid coursed across his pale skin and into the gap of their clasped hands, like a seal between them. He looked back up at her.

"Your answer, Hermione?" he pressed softly.

Hermione swallowed and wiped at her eyes with one hand.

"Yes, Severus. Yes, I will marry you and love you until the end of our days," the witch replied.

His heart full, Severus leaned forward and kissed her gently on the mouth, lingering as her sweetness washed over him. His. Hermione Granger had agreed to be his forever. He pulled back, licking his lips slightly. Then he froze.

"I don't…I don't have a ring to give you, Hermione," he said, shaking his head.

He really hadn't thought this through. What kind of wizard proposed to a witch without a ring?

Hermione looked at him and smiled. Obviously, Severus had been driven by great emotion to ask her to marry him this way. It wasn't planned. He was normally so meticulous about things. She couldn't help but feel that this was more proof that his love was from his heart and his passion.

"That's all right, Severus…we can get a ring later," she said, kissing the wizard's cheek, "It isn't the ring that binds us after all. It's the love. No ring can match that."

Severus gave her a small smile.

"You are a gem," Hermione Granger…my gem," he said softly, kissing her again.

Of course they found another way to cement their newly-formed bond.

"This might not be a finger," Severus purred as he nestled himself between Hermione's thighs and adjusted himself against the sighing witch's apex, "And you might not be a ring, witch, but let's just slip this on for size."

Severus locked his mouth to Hermione's lips tenderly and entered the witch slowly and reverently, murmuring his love as she slid around him.

No ring could have fit them better.

* * *

Remus was a nervous wreck the next morning and had to shower twice before they left for the Ministry. He and Eloise had spent the night at Hogwarts, the muggle spending much of her time with her arms wrapped around the wizard as he ran, whined and snarled in his sleep. Eloise's heat was over and she'd be "safe" for the next few months.

Albus wanted to provide him with a set of new robes, but the wizard thought it best if he go into the Ministry's presence as is. He didn't want to appear to be "showing off." He was a humble sort and always had been.

Severus showed up without Hermione, who was busy gathering her tools of war and said she'd meet him at Albus' office. They had a wonderful night together, one of the tenderest they had ever shared. Severus had been gentle, strong and possessive, though he told her not to expect such soft treatment all the time. He had his needs. Hermione didn't mind this…she had her own dark little needs after all, but it had been a beautiful consummation of their "agreement," and she awoke feeling safe and loved in the wizard's pale arms.

Rubin arrived early, and Severus noticed the farmer didn't look too well. He was wearing dress robes and seemed a bit pale. Possibly he was nervous, but the Potions Master didn't like the way he looked and offered him a seat when he entered Albus' office.

"How are you this morning, Rubin?" Severus asked him as his black eyes washed over the wizard after Rubin sat down.

The farmer rubbed one hand over his face.

"I'm fine, Severus. A little tired and winded though. I guess it's because of all the excitement. I'm just a simple farmer and not used to all this hullabaloo," Rubin replied.

"Perhaps I could get you a calming draught?" Severus suggested.

The dark wizard had come to respect the old farmer and was actually concerned.

"No, that's all right son. I'll be fine," Rubin said, giving the sober wizard a small smile.

Severus left him alone after that, but watched the man closely.

Carrying a satchel full of reduced protest signs, Hermione was the last one to show, her hair pulled back in a pony-tail, a pullover sweater, jeans and trainers. She looked decidedly muggle. It was about nine in the morning. A few sweet rolls, sausages, tea and coffee were set out on a small table, but no one was eating.

They all sat in silence, Albus sitting at his desk with a peaceful expression on his face, tapping his fingertips together as the rest of the group watched him.

Finally Severus said, "Headmaster, is there a reason we are just sitting here?"

Albus nodded, and continued to tap his fingers together. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Filch hobbled in, carrying the Daily Prophet.

"Here you go, Headmaster," the squib said, walking up to the desk and handing the paper to Albus, who thanked him and opened it.

Filch turned and his rheumy eyes fell on Remus. They lit up.

"Fine job, Mr. Lupin…a brave thing you did, sir," Filch said, hobbling up to the wizard and offering him his arthritic hand.

Remus looked up at him and slowly took it. Filch had called him sir. He hadn't been called sir by an adult in many years. Filch gave him a horrendous grin, bobbed his head in deference and left, everyone looking after him.

"Well, the ball has been set in motion," Albus said, turning the Daily Prophet around so all could see the front page.

The headline read as follows

FENRIR GREYBACK'S REIGN OF TERROR ENDED  
BY FELLOW WEREWOLF REMUS LUPIN

Below the headline was a picture of a very sober Remus with his arm in a sling, holding up the head of Fenrir.

"Shall I read the article?" Albus inquired.

Everyone nodded with the exception of Remus and Severus, though it was easy to see they were just as interested as the others.

"Fenrir Greyback, infamous werewolf and Death Eater wanted for more than thirty-five murders and a number of turnings, met his end two nights ago at the hands of Remus Lupin, a former Hogwarts Professor and fellow werewolf. Fenrir Greyback was the werewolf who originally gave Mr. Lupin the malady when he was only five years old. The werewolf's death ends a reign of terror that spanned decades.

The death occurred on the farm of Mr. Rubin Fezwig, and was witness by renowned Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, famed Potions Master Severus Snape and Eloise Hedgeberry, a recent muggle victim of Fenrir who now has the werewolf malady as well. Mr. Lupin overcame Fenrir after a brutal struggle and decapitated him, a well-known and effective method of killing a werewolf.

Mr. Lupin will be delivering proof of Fenrir's demise to the Ministry sometime today and will be collecting a large reward in the amount of one million galleons for his heroic deed."

Albus put the paper down.

"Not very sensational," Eloise commented.

Albus smiled.

"Miss Skeeter reported the news in the proper manner, stating only the facts. But…"

Here Albus grinned broadly.

"You must note that she said Remus will be claiming his reward without any reference to the possibility that he will not collect it. By stating this in such a widely read periodical, she has set in the public's mind that Remus is deserving of such a reward. It was a stroke of genius. If the Ministry refuses to give Remus the reward he has earned, there will be a public outcry. I imagine even now the Ministry Council is meeting and trying to decide how to deal with this matter in relation to current werewolf laws. I also imagine there are quite a few people waiting to see Remus deliver Fenrir's head," the Headmaster said.

"I bet the goblins at Gringotts are meeting as well," Hermione said, frowning slightly, "They aren't going to want Remus keeping a million galleons in a buried chest someplace. I bet the policy of werewolves not having bank accounts changes, and changes quickly."

"I think we should go," Albus said, rising, "The time is right."

Everyone rose, except Rubin, who suddenly looked ashen. Remus looked at him and rushed over as the old farmer grasped his left arm and started gasping.

"Rubin? Rubin! What's wrong?" Remus cried, grasping his shoulder with his good had, his eyes wild as the farmer's mouth moved but no words came out.

Severus moved quickly, pushing Remus aside and grabbing Rubin, hoisting him out of the chair and into his arms.

"Quick, the floo! The infirmary!" the wizard shouted, striding toward the fireplace with the wizard. Rubin was no lightweight, but Severus had no problem carrying him.

Hermione quickly threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and shouted, "The infirmary!" The flames turned green and Severus ran through, Hermione, Remus, Eloise and Albus following quickly.

"Poppy! An emergency! Heart attack!" Severus bellowed, running with Rubin into the nearest privacy enclosure and laying him on a cot. He immediately began to unfasten the old farmer's robes. Remus ran in and stood at the head of the cot, his eyes wet with concern and worry.

"Hold on, Rubin," the werewolf breathed as Eloise appeared beside him, tears running down her face as she grasped Remus' arm. Hermione and Albus entered also and stood by silently.

"Try to cough, Rubin!" Severus said to him as he pulled the robes aside, "It will help ease the pain!"

Rubin tried coughing, his eyes turned on the Potions Master. He didn't do very well as Poppy rushed in with her wand drawn and a number of vials. She squeezed in beside Severus and put the tip of her wand against Rubin's chest, muttering a spell.

The farmer gasped several more times, then his breathing eased. Poppy turned to the group standing about.

"You all have to leave while I examine him. There are a number of chairs near my office. Wait there," she ordered.

Remus stood there, unwilling to leave the man who had been like a father to him for the past three years.

"Come on, Remus," Eloise said softly, "He'll be taken care of."

She gently pulled the wizard away and through the privacy curtain…following Severus, Hermione and Albus.

Remus followed her and dropped heavily into the chair, letting his face fall into his hands. They waited for more than an hour as Poppy thoroughly checked the farmer.

Presently, the medi-witch emerged from behind the curtain, a somber look on her face as she approached the waiting group. Remus rose.

"How is he, Poppy?" the wizard asked, his eyes searching her face.

"He's comfortable for now…but I'm afraid his heart is very badly damaged, too damaged to heal," she said to Remus softly, placing a hand on his good arm.

"No. No. Rubin was healthy as a horse," Remus said to her.

"I'm afraid not, Remus. He must have hidden his illness from you. From the damage, I'm sure he's been having small episodes for a while now," the medi-witch said.

Eloise listened to Poppy and remembered a number of times when she and Rubin were doing chores, Rubin stopped working, perspiring heavily and pulling out his handkerchief, wiping his brow. He would sit down for a few minutes and rub his arm. But she thought he had just been sore and hot from working. She never dreamed he had heart trouble. Guilt washed over her.

She needn't have felt guilty however. Rubin wasn't the type of man to complain and was well aware he was ill. But he didn't want to convalesce in some hospital or home for the aged, alone and without family. He would rather die at his home, doing the things he loved and with the people he cared about…Remus and Eloise. Remus had become like a son to him, and he loved the werewolf. That love was returned.

"How…how long does he have?" Remus rasped as Hermione pressed her face into Severus' robes, the wizard holding her with one arm.

"I can't say, Remus. A few hours perhaps," the witch said.

Remus blinked back the tears filling his eyes, then he turned to Albus.

"I'm not going to the Ministry, Albus. I have to see about Rubin," he said, his voice catching, "Fenrir can wait."

Albus nodded, understanding. Rubin meant the world to Remus Lupin. He intended to sit vigil with him until he passed.

"Poppy, make arrangements so Remus can be comfortable," the wizard said.

Eloise stepped forward.

"I'm staying too. I would have been lost without Rubin," she said softly. Remus looked at her then drew her into a tight embrace, squeezing his eyes tightly.

Poppy nodded and went about getting chairs and another two cots situated in the room.

"Albus, I wonder if I might collect a few students to take to Rubin's farm to see about his livestock," Severus asked the Headmaster, "Those slated for detention. I will be sure they collect their missed class work."

"Yes, Severus. The names are in the file cabinet to the right of my desk in my office," the Headmaster replied.

Severus nodded, then looked at Remus.

"I'm very sorry, Remus. Rubin is a fine man," the Potions Master said soberly.

Remus looked at him, and wiped his eyes.

"Thank you, Severus," he replied as Poppy came out from behind the drawn black curtain.

"I'm sorry too, Remus," Hermione said softly, her heart going out to the werewolf.

She hadn't known Rubin long, but he was a kind man and good to both Remus and Eloise.

"Thank you, Hermione," Remus said.

Poppy looked at the wizard sympathetically.

"You can both go in now. He's sleeping," she said to Remus and Eloise. They thanked her and entered the enclosure, drawing the curtain back.

Albus shook his head.

"A very unfortunate turn of events," the Headmaster said, "Rubin Fezwig is a very good man who lived a good life. He will be greatly missed."

That night, at ten fifty-two PM, Rubin Fezwig passed from the magical world peacefully, in the presence of people he loved and who loved him. He never regained consciousness.

Remus and Eloise clutched each other as Poppy announced he was gone, tears flowing freely.

"It's not fair," Remus gasped against Eloise's throat, "I was just at the point I could repay him for all his kindness. He might not have accepted money from me, but I could have made some improvements around the farm, purchased more animals…hired him some help. If only I had known he was sick…I could have helped him more."

Eloise rubbed Remus' back, looking on the peaceful visage of Rubin once more before Poppy drew the sheet over his head.

"You did help him, Remus. You were like the son he didn't have. It was easy to see he loved and cared about you…and you cared about him. He would have been alone…but because of you…he wasn't," she said softly.

Standing by the bedside, Rubin Fezwig looked at the two mourning werewolves. He was dressed in his plaid shirt and work trousers, his straw hat planted firmly on his head.

"It's going to be all right you two. It was time for me to go. I lived a full life and it was happy in the end because of you. And because of you, I was able to avenge my son and my wife. I'm satisfied and at peace now," he said softly.

Remus looked up suddenly as warmth washed over him. He blinked and looked at Rubin's body…feeling comforted somehow.

"That's right son," Rubin said with a smile, "It will be all right."

Suddenly a door appeared before the old wizard, pure white and shining with a golden knob. Rubin eyed it a moment, then reached out and twisted the knob…opening the door. A woman stood there, heavy-set with kindly blue eyes and brunette hair.

"Rubin?" she said in surprise.

The farmer stared at his wife. She never looked more beautiful.

"Rita? Rita, is that you?" he asked, staring at her in disbelief.

Rita smiled, her cheeks rosy with warmth and love.

"Yes, it's me, Rubin…and I've been waiting for you for a long, long time," she said, opening her arms.

Rubin pushed his hat back and stepped through the door into his wife's embrace. It felt like coming home after a long, lonesome journey.

* * *

While Remus and Eloise sat vigil at Rubin's bedside, a scowling Severus collected several horrified Gryffindor students without telling them why, thus extending their terror as he strode across the grounds somberly, the students nearly running to keep up. Once outside the castle gates, he made them all link arms, grasped a Gryffindor tightly by the back of his neck and disapparated with them to Rubin's farm.

He immediately gave orders. Clean the stalls, barn and the grounds of manure, putting it in burlap sacks, feed and water the animals, pick up any trash and collect eggs. The grumbling students set about their work. Severus went into the barn and over to the bin that held Fenrir's decapitated body, reapplied the stasis spell and disillusioned it.

Presently Albus came to collect the body, taking it to Hogwarts and placing it in the morgue beneath the castle along with his head and strongly warding it.

Severus entered Rubin's home. He knew it was a bit early since the farmer wasn't yet dead, but he knew Remus was in no condition to think about details. Severus strode through the house to Rubin's bedroom and sorted through his clothing until he found another set of dress robes and other items for the farmer to be laid out in. He reduced their size found a piece of parchment to wrap them in and placed the clothing in his pocket. He then walked into the parlor and looked about.

There was a mahogany writing desk in one corner, and the Potions Master opened the drawers, finding one locked securely. After breaking the wards, he opened it and found a strongbox. This too was strongly warded and it took him a little more than an hour to get it open without damaging the contents. Inside were several documents.

Severus looked them over. Rubin had a will, life insurance policy, a compiled list of assets and investments along with the proper documents, and the deed to his farm all neatly tied together. Severus unfolded the will and skimmed over it.

Yes, it was just as he thought. He replaced the items in the strongbox, locked it back and reduced it, also placing it in his pocket. He looked around the house and walked over to the walls, noticing the glimmer of silver threading.

That would never do. Not now.

Rolling up his sleeves…the Potions Master went to work.

* * *

Hermione took it upon herself to go down to the Ministry. The moment she appeared the sound of many voices chanting filled the air. Since she apparated on the side of the building, she had to walk around. What she saw made her smile broadly.

Several hundred people were standing behind barricades chanting slogans. Somber Aurors stood on the steps of the Ministry watching the crowd. Signs and banners were in plain view. Newspaper reporters and photographers were on the fringe, snapping pictures and taking statements from anyone who would speak to them. Rita Skeeter and Bilbo were on the scene as well, Rita looking decidedly smug at scooping the story.

Hermione walked up to the crowd and they parted to let her in, someone shoving a sign that read, "Freedom for All" in her hand. She accepted it, then worked her way to the front of the crowd.

A witch wearing large, furry werewolf-like ears on her head was yelling furiously. Hermione tapped her on the shoulder and the woman looked at her.

"Do you know where I can find the president of FOW?" she asked the woman loudly, so her voice could be heard over the din.

"Yes, she's right up front. The witch with the blue-white hair," the witch replied.

Hermione thanked her and pressed her way to the front until she reached the president. She tapped her on the shoulder. The woman turned around. She had blue eyes, a strong chin and her angular face was slightly lined. She had to be in her late nineties.

"Are you the president of FOW?" Hermione shouted.

"Yes I am. Ursula Gabbingsworth," the witch replied, looking at Hermione's sign with approval.

"Well, I'm Hermione Granger…a friend of Remus Lupin. He won't be able to make it here today. A friend of his is very sick…on the brink of death actually. He's with him now," Hermione informed the woman.

Ursula looked sympathetic.

"Oh, how sad for him. I imagine it is someone close?" she asked Hermione.

"Yes. A gentleman named Rubin Fezwig," Hermione replied.

Ursula stared at Hermione.

"Oh no. Not Rubin," she said softly, "He's a friend of mine…in fact of many of the members. He donated a lot of money to FOW. His son had the malady, you know…and met a sad end…a very sad end."

Hermione nodded, not knowing what to say. Suddenly Ursula placed her wand against her throat and invoked the Sonorous charm so her voice was amplified.

"Friends! Friends, listen a moment please!" she shouted.

The chants died down.

"I have just been informed that Mr. Lupin will not be arriving here at the Ministry, because he is at the bedside of Mr. Rubin Fezwig, our friend and supporter of many years, who is close to his demise" she said as murmurs and cries of "oh no" filled the air.

"But we will continue to come here in support of Mr. Lupin every day until he himself appears, to show the world how noble, courageous and deserving those cursed with the werewolf malady can be, and to work toward securing the full rights of citizenship for this overlooked and persecuted sector of our society!" she cried.

Shouts of "Hear! Hear!" and applause followed.

"As for Rubin Fezwig, he has always been there for us, though he was a quiet, almost invisible presence, preferring to support us financially. Yet he has always been with us in spirit, also a victim of the unfair laws that drove his son to a life of crime. He did his part and will always be remembered with love and respect," she said, tapping her wand to her upper left forearm. A green band appeared. She held up her arm.

"For Rubin Fezwig!" she cried.

"For Rubin!" the crowd shouted, every person placing a green armband on their left upper forearm, "For Rubin!"

Hermione felt herself tearing up as the people chanted Rubin's name several times before returning to supporting Remus and the werewolf community.

"Tell Mr. Lupin we are with him," Ursula said to Hermione, "Tell him he is not alone. We are with him until the end. He won't be denied his just desserts."

"I will tell him," Hermione said, her eyes glistening, "Thank you, Miss Gabbingsworth."

"That's Ursula, my dear," the president said with a smile, "Just Ursula."

"Thank you Ursula. I have to go speak with Rita Skeeter," Hermione said.

Ursula nodded.

"Rita was the one who contacted us. She did the movement a great favor," Ursula said, "Who would have thought someone who slings as much trash as she does would do such a thing?"

Hermione just smiled. She had known. Of course, it wasn't so much social conscience that moved Rita as it was the purpose of getting a good story going. But there was no reason to tell Ursula this.

"Goodbye, Ursula," Hermione said, shaking the woman's hand and making her way toward the edge of the crowd and Rita.

She emerged and Rita saw her immediately and grabbed her arm, pulling Hermione away.

"When is Lupin going to show up?" Rita asked her a bit angrily, "The public is waiting!"

"Didn't you just hear what Ursula announced? He's with Rubin," Hermione said.

"Yes. Yes I know. I know. He's dying. Do you think it will take long?" Rita inquired.

Hermione looked at the reporter incredulously. How could she be so callous?

Rita scowled at her.

"Don't give me that disapproving look," the reporter said, "There's news waiting to happen. The farmer's holding it up."

Hermione fought to keep her wand in her pocket.

"He'll come when he's ready to come," Hermione replied, forcing her voice to remain steady.

"Only the gods know when that will be," Rita muttered, "I'm glad I have that Fenrir column tomorrow for filler. Barnabas isn't going to be happy Remus didn't show."

"Fenrir column?" Hermione asked her curiously.

"Yes, yes," Rita said impatiently, watching the crowd for anything interesting, "I did a little background research on him. It seems he and his mother were constantly harassed by the Aurors when he was a boy. Lots of reports from his mother about stealing, taking of valuables and money from their home and threats against her son. None of them were ever addressed but all were filed. One night four Aurors were killed at his home and Fenrir disappeared. His mother's statement said one of the Aurors tried to steal a silver picture frame given to her by her deceased husband and pushed her to the floor. She claimed Fenrir tried to protect her but it got out of hand and he killed them all in self-defense. She was killed in a mysterious fire the following week. It was strange because no witch should ever get caught in a fire. They can disapparate away…but she died and was buried on the land. The killings and turnings started after that," Rita told Hermione, who covered her mouth with her hand.

"That's terrible," she said.

Rita nodded.

"I think Fenrir is going to have a bit of sympathy from the public…not much because he was a cold-blooded killer, but it seems he was created by the Ministry itself. I'm approaching the story from the angle that if he and his mother weren't so badly treated in the first place, Fenrir probably wouldn't have become the killer he did. If he had been granted the same rights and protections of ordinary citizens, all those lives he took could have been spared," Rita said, "And, here is the clincher…the Ministry may be creating another Fenrir as we speak. I've interviewed a few werewolves who only spoke on the grounds that they wouldn't be identified, and they are still being robbed and arbitrarily beaten by Aurors from the Werewolf Control department. I've even seen pictures. Terrible…just terrible. I'm going to include one of a young man of about fifteen with his eyes swollen shut. Good press there. I can guarantee another outcry,"

Rita rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

Hermione couldn't say that she approved of Rita's motivations. The reporter simply wanted good press. But she had to admit that people would most likely be outraged about how Fenrir became the way he did, and the continued abuse of people with the malady.

"I'm going to go, Rita," Hermione said to the reporter.

"All right. Let me know when the farmer's funeral is. It ought to be good for filler," the reporter said.

Hermione counted to three, then left Rita's presence before she hit her with a Zipper Mouth hex. The woman was useful but irritating as hell.

* * *

Severus returned with the exhausted students well after nine pm. He escorted the silent, sweaty and disgruntled students to the Fat Lady and looked at them imperiously.

"You have each earned a day off of your detentions," the wizard said with a smirk as the students fought back exclamations of dismay. With all the work they did on Rubin's farm, they should have had credit against further detentions.

"You will find your class assignments in your rooms, and are expected to have them complete ON TIME. You will leave them on your nightstands where they will be collected. Since you each have a week's worth of detentions, you will each be going to Mr. Fezwig's farm each day to tend to his animals under his final arrangements are made," Severus said.

"Professor Snape, why are there only Gryffindors doing this? There have to be other students from the other houses that have detentions," a curly-haired young wizard with mud or worse on his nose said, frowning at the Professor.

Severus arched an eyebrow at him.

"Do you really have to ask, Mr. Blackberry?" the wizard purred at him.

Dwayne let out a sigh. No, he didn't. Everyone knew Professor Snape hated Gryffindor House and did all he could to make their lives miserable.

"No sir," he responded.

"Good," Severus replied, "And twenty points from Gryffindor for your asking such an impertinent question."

All of the students groaned as Dwayne sullenly said the password and they climbed in one after the other.

"I will be collecting you at ten," Severus called after them, a nasty grin on his face as the portrait swung closed. He turned and started walking away.

"You nasty, nasty man," the Fat Lady hissed under her breath.

Severus paused.

"An astute assumption on your part, Lady," he purred without turning around. Then he continued on to Albus' office to give him Rubin's things.

* * *

"Ah, just as I thought," Albus said, lowering Rubin's will, "He's left almost everything to Remus, except for a generous trust to FOW. He made a number of very astute investments it seems. Remus will not only have money but land as well. I am not sure how the Ministry deals with werewolves owning land, though they do own their homes at the werewolf village. If they attempt to argue the point, we can refer to other homeowners with the malady. I doubt if there will be much dispute on the part of the Ministry about it. Not with all the attention Remus is receiving."

Severus nodded.

"It seems as if Remus has finally come into his own," the Professor said, "It's a shame we didn't realize that his fighting the transformation, and his subsequent use of the wolfsbane potion was the reason he was so…reticent in his demeanor."

Severus had learned that Remus came to Dumbledore asking him to do something about James and Sirius. Not that it meant much. The Potions Master believed him to have no backbone, no heart of his own. As far as Severus was concerned, Remus was a coward who let people do wrong without standing up for what was proper. Now he knew that Remus had never truly been himself. It didn't change the past, but…at least there was another reason other than weakness of character. He was no Potter or Black.

"Yes, but from this point forward…we can expect nothing but the best from Remus Lupin," Albus said.

Suddenly the floo turned green.

"Albus, Rubin is gone," Poppy voice sounded from the floo.

Albus sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes as Severus sat somberly, his dark eyes resting on the Headmaster.

"Thank you, Poppy. I will be down presently," Albus replied.

The flames returned to their normal color.

"Will you accompany me to the infirmary, Severus?" the wizard inquired, his eyes wet as he replaced his glasses.

Severus shook his head.

"No sir. I will pay my respects at a later time. Tonight is for friends…and loved ones," the dark wizard said rising, "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Severus," Albus replied, watching as the Potions Master cast floo powder into the fireplace and stepped through.

He sighed.

"Such happiness and such sadness," the old wizard said rising, "The duplicity of life is what makes it so, so precious."

Gathering his robes about him and mentally preparing himself for the grief that would meet him, Albus took a deep breath and cast a handful of powder into the floo.

"The infirmary," he said, stepping through.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	17. Final Chapter

**A Song for Severus Final Chapter**

Draco Malfoy sat in his study, listening to Malina's songs over and over. His hair had grown to an unruly length and a blonde fuzz covered his angular chin. He sat in a chair, facing the fireplace, a bottle of firewhiskey within hand's reach on a small table beside him.

Draco's house elves sat in the corners in silent vigil. They had learned over the past few weeks not to approach him unless he was well within the grip of the alcohol he consumed. It was then they combed his hair and redressed him, forced him to eat something…anything that would nourish him.

The accomplishment of his goal to be free of spying past, Draco now spent his hours consumed with Malina's music. He lived to hear her voice and dream of her. Life was empty without her presence and the wizard truly felt there was nothing left to live for, despite his youth and the potential for happiness.

He had purchased a powerful potion, a poison that would free him from his pain. Malina had been his everything, and now seemed more so that she was gone. Night after night he listened to her songs, waiting…waiting for the moment he was strong enough to follow her into death.

The wizard was vaguely aware of his servants around him, gently combing his long locks and scourgifying him, all the while pleading that he come back to them, that he end his mourning and live.

"No. No. There's nothing left to live for. I've helped end the Death Eaters and the reign of another despot. It's over. There's no more for me to do," he breathed at them as they keened and cried, "No master. No."

He had forbidden them to touch the black glass bottle with the death head stopper resting on the table next to him. It had sat there for the past two weeks, Draco unable to bring himself to open it and consume it. He wanted peace, but his instinct for self-preservation thwarted him again and again.

With the elves pleading with him ringing in his ears, Draco fell into a deep sleep. He no longer dreamed. There was only moments of clarity punctuated with moments of darkness.

Once again he floated in the void his mind created…a replica of what death would be like, dark and empty.

As he drifted…he heard a familiar voice.

"Draco."

He shifted in the chair, tossing fitfully as the voice called him again.

"Draco Malfoy."

He knew that voice. That lilt. That timbre.

"Malina?" he called back into the darkness.

"Yes," the voice replied, "It's me, Draco."

The wizard felt himself focus as a white shimmering light appeared before him, then a familiar silhouette.

"Malina," he sighed as the witch he loved walked toward him, looking beautiful and alive, her dark eyes full of love.

"Yes, Draco. I finally managed to come to you. You were so thick with grief I couldn't get through," Malina said, taking his hands in hers. Draco stared at her.

"I miss you," he said.

Malina gave him a small smile.

"I know, Draco…but believe me, I have never left you. I will never leave you," the witch replied.

Draco's gray eyes narrowed.

"I want to be with you," he breathed as he felt the warmth of her hands in his…but he made no move to kiss her. For some reason it felt as if this would be wrong to do.

"I know," Malina replied, "But it isn't time Draco. You have so much living left to do. There will be someone else. Someone who will touch your heart and your soul the way I did. There is room for that. There is always room for love."

Draco scowled.

"I don't want another love, Malina. Only yours," he said, tightening his hold on her.

"Draco, love is the thing that makes life worth living. It is a constant. You have to be open to it," she said softly.

"No. No. You are the love of my life," he said firmly.

"I've moved beyond life. I'm in another place…a beautiful place Draco. You must live in your place. You have so much to offer," she replied.

Draco studied her. She was so lovely, so real. He could feel her warmth, her being.

"I want to be with you. Life is nothing without you," he said softly.

Suddenly Malina pulled her hands away from him, scowling blackly.

"I swear Draco, if you don't make an effort to live, when you come here I will have nothing to do with you. You won't see me and you won't find me. I will not wait for a quitter," she snapped, "You have no right to end a life that was a gift to you. I thought I meant something to you."

"You did. You do," Draco said, wishing she would take his hands again.

"If I did, you would do your best to appreciate the life you have. You wouldn't throw it away, Draco. I loved life. You turning away from it shows me you don't care how precious I believed it was. That I believed it is," she said darkly, "Even now you have a poison next to you, ready to consume it and abandon the gift you have…for me. But it won't be for me, Draco. It will be because you have given up. I won't accept the guilt for that."

Draco felt his heart shudder in his chest. He didn't want Malina to feel guilty about any decision he made.

"What would you have me do, Malina? I miss you so much I can't bear to see the next sunrise," Draco said.

"Get over it. There is a whole life ahead of you and I expect you to live it to the fullest," she replied, "You have so much to offer and there are so many on earth that could benefit from your love and care. I'm beyond that now. I am at peace and happy…but I would be happier if you would just move on. Make me happy, Draco. Live. Live and be happy."

Draco stared into Malina's beautiful dark eyes and felt her love and hope wash over him. It would make her happy for him to continue, much happier than if he followed her to death. The wizard made his choice.

"Very well, Malina. I won't follow you. I'll try to live my life with hope and joy. But I doubt I will ever find the love I had with you," he said.

Malina gave him a beautiful smile.

"Don't try to find the same love, Draco, just a love that touches you. That's all I ask," she said softly, taking his hands again, then leaning forward and kissing him gently on the lips. He could feel the contact and the sweetness washing over him, a sweetness he had greatly missed.

"You found my song," she said to him.

"Yes, I did. It's beautiful," Draco said to her.

"It's a song meant to be shared. It is meaningless without someone to share it with, Draco. I want you to share it with someone it will have meaning for. With someone who has a love like we had," she said softly.

"I don't know anyone like that," he said, "And besides…no one could sing it the way you would."

"If you promise to give the song to someone who deserves it…who would understand it, Draco…I will sing it for you," Malina said, "I will sing it with all the love I contain for you…and you will pass it on. It will serve as a balm for you and whoever you share it with. Surely you know someone."

Malina's dark eyes were filled with a knowing glow. Draco stared at her a moment, searching his brain for someone, anyone who might feel the depth of her lyrics.

Then he knew.

"Sing it for me, Malina," he breathed, "Sing it for me and I will take it to someone who will feel every word."

Malina smiled…and then…began to sing.

* * *

Rubin Fezwig was buried in a simple ceremony on the ground of his farm, out in a distant pasture next to his wife, Rita Fezwig. Albus said a few words as did Ursula Gabbingsworth. It may have been a simple funeral, but over seven hundred people were in attendance, the entire membership of FOW and supporters. The most moving moment came when the sound of multiple apparitions filled the air, and the residents of the werewolf village arrived and joined the mourners, all of them wearing green armbands.

The Aurors didn't accompany them. When the little girl whose family was killed regained consciousness at the makeshift facility in the werewolf village, she gave a description of the man who attacked them. It was undoubtedly Fenrir. The ban was lifted the very morning of Rubin's funeral and the inhabitants all came to pay their respects.

Remus stood next to the grave, grieving openly, tears streaming down his face as Eloise stood next to him, her arm wrapped around the werewolf's waist. Severus was in somber attendance, as was Hermione. Rita, Bilbo and a number of other reporters and photographers stood a distance away, Professor Snape having made clear that to come any closer could be quite painful.

"This is a funeral, not a circus," the wizard said to the reporters pointedly, "You will not interrupt it by asking questions and flashing bulbs. You may go about your business after Mr. Fezwig has been interred. You've been warned."

After the burial, it was clear to see Remus wanted to be left alone. After the crowd gave him their condolences, they thoughtfully left. The reporters were another story and demanded he give a statement about the death of Fenrir Greyback and let them know when he was going to come to the Ministry and claim his reward.

After listening to them clamor for several minutes, Remus said something to Albus who held up his hands and quieted the reporters.

"Mr. Remus wishes to make a statement. This will be all he says on the matter," the Headmaster said.

The reporters stood there, quills poised over parchment notebooks, all eyes on Remus.

The werewolf scanned the crowd.

"I will arrive at the Ministry…when I arrive," he said shortly.

The reporters all let out angry shouts and complaints.

"Come on Lupin…give us something!"

"That's not fair, Lupin!"

"I came all this way for that bullshit?"

Severus walked up to the crowd. He didn't draw his wand, but looked at the group with narrowed eyes. Albus walked up beside him, his blue eyes dark with displeasure.

"It is time for you all to leave the premises. Please make it an 'easy' departure," Albus said, his meaning unmistakable.

Still complaining all the reporters and photographers disapparated away, except for Rita and Bilbo.

"Surely that doesn't include us, Headmaster?" Rita purred, her sharp eyes resting on the back of the departing Remus, who walked across the pasture toward the farm with Eloise.

Hermione waited for Severus, her amber eyes rather hard as she looked at Rita. Now wasn't the time for this.

"I'm afraid it does, Rita. The couple needs this time to themselves," Albus replied.

"But, but I thought I had exclusive access," Rita griped.

"You do, Miss Skeeter…when it is appropriate. At this point in time it is not. Give him time to grieve," Albus said.

"He's been grieving three days now and not giving us a lick of new information," Rita complained, "How long do we have to wait? The story's going cold. People are losing interest."

Hermione walked forward.

"That's not true and you know it, Rita. The public is more interested than ever. I can't believe how shallow you are," Hermione scolded, "Remus needs a little time to come to terms with his loss. Rubin was…"

"…like a father to him. I know. I know. But he wasn't his father. The werewolf needs to buck up and go for that reward," Rita said impatiently.

"He'll do that when he's ready. Now please leave the premises," Albus said firmly.

Rita looked from Albus to Hermione to Severus, who stood scowling, looking as if he'd like nothing better than to hex both she and Bilbo.

"Fine," she spat, then looked at Hermione, "I'll know better next time I strike up a deal with you lot."

Rita disapparated, followed by Bilbo who snapped a quick picture of the three before departing.

"What a horrible woman," Hermione breathed, scowling at the empty spot Rita had occupied only moments before.

"She serves her purpose. Let us go speak to Remus and Eloise before we leave. There are a few matters he needs to be made aware of," Albus said, starting across the pasture, Severus and Hermione following.

They still hadn't revealed their engagement to anyone, feeling Rubin's death should take precedence. Besides, Severus had not yet purchased a ring for the witch.

They found both Remus and Eloise seated at the table, looking toward the house.

"I keep expecting him to walk out of the house with a platter of seared steaks," Remus said softly.

"He loved cooking them for us," Eloise said, smiling a little, "No matter what the problem was…it was like Rubin believed any ill could be solved with rare beef."

Remus chuckled a little, then said, "Gods, I miss him."

"I do too, Remus. I wonder what will happen to the farm now, and the animals?" Eloise said, looking toward the corralled cattle.

"Well, that depends on Remus," Albus said, walking up to the table and drawing a folded parchment out of the inside pocket of his robes. He handed it to Remus.

"This is a copy of Rubin's will," Albus said, "I took the liberty of filing the original at the Ministry without too much difficulty, particularly since I took Miss Gabbingsworth and several FOW members with me. The clerk was quite accommodating."

Remus unfolded the parchment and began reading. Suddenly his eyebrows lifted.

"He left me the farm?" he said, then looked at Eloise, "Eloise, he left us the farm!"

Eloise smiled. She had come to love the farm…now she could continue to do so.

"Let us go inside and discuss the details of your new holdings," Albus said, walking toward the farmhouse. Remus and Eloise made no move to follow him.

"We can't enter the house, Headmaster," Remus called to him, "Silver threading runs through every inch of wall."

"No longer, Remus. It has been removed, as has the threading on the animal barn," Severus said to the wizard.

"Removed? By who?" Remus asked.

Severus blinked at him.

"By someone who was extremely tired and put out by all the work it required, that's who," the wizard snapped, turning around quickly followed Albus, his robes billowing. Severus wasn't up to hearing Remus emotionally express his gratitude.

Hermione shook her head. Severus was really wonderful to do that for Remus and Eloise. It had to have been hard work.

Eloise smiled after the dark Potions Master.

"He really is a kind man," she said.

Both Remus and Hermione looked at Eloise incredulously.

"I wouldn't go that far," they both said together, then started laughing.

"No one knows exactly why Severus does the things he does. He will do something extremely thoughtful one moment, then something incredibly snarky the next. I never know what he's going to do," Hermione said softly, watching as Severus disappeared into the depth of the house.

"And that's one of the reasons you love him, Hermione, isn't it?" Eloise asked her.

Hermione looked at her and nodded.

"One of the reasons…yes," she replied.

Remus shook his head.

"I never believed Severus would have anyone to love him," Remus said, "It only goes to prove that love isn't a respecter of men…even men as contrary and dark as Severus Snape can be blessed by it."

All three quietly walked to the porch of the farmhouse. Hermione entered first, then Remus cautiously approached the door, hesitating, then walking through half-expecting to be hit with a burning pain. No…nothing happened. Severus really had removed all the silver.

They walked into the parlor, Eloise exclaiming how homey and comfortable the house was. Rubin hadn't changed a thing about it since he lost his wife. The muggle walked into the kitchen as the rest of the group sat down in the parlor, Albus directing Remus to Rubin's desk, then removing the strongbox from his pocket, enlarging it and handing it to the wizard.

In the kitchen, Eloise went through the pantry, cabinets and cooler. She put a pot of coffee on the stove, then turned it on, glad that Rubin didn't do everything by magic. The kitchen could be used by a muggle. She walked back into the parlor and took a seat, listening to Albus and Remus discuss Rubin's estate.

Remus couldn't believe it. With Rubin's holdings even if he didn't collect the reward for killing Fenrir, he would still be quite well off. He and Eloise could live a good life together. They wouldn't want for anything. As Albus talked, Remus' eyes rested on Eloise. Everything was falling into place. Only one more thing had to be addressed. One very important thing.

He would take care of that after going to the Ministry.

* * *

That evening, there was a knock on the door. Remus and Eloise were sitting in the parlor, reminiscing about Rubin. Both looked up.

"Who could that be?" Remus said, drawing his wand and walking up to the door.

"Who is it?" he called.

"A Ministry representative," a voice answered.

Rubin looked back at Eloise, who had stiffened, a low growl sounding deep in her throat. What did the Ministry want?

"What is your business here?" Remus called through the door.

"Only to speak to you, Mr. Lupin. The Council has an offer for you," the voice replied.

"What kind of offer?" Remus asked cautiously.

"I would rather talk to you personally than through the door," the voice said, sounding irritated.

Eloise stood up and walked to the other side of the door, preparing herself to help Remus if anything untoward was going on. Even in human form she was quite formidable.

"Open the door," she mouthed at him.

Remus quickly pulled the door open. On the porch stood a short white-haired wizard, with a large mustache, and dressed in a royal blue robe. He had a large envelope in his hand. Behind him stood two steely-eyed Aurors from the Werewolf Control Department.

"My name is Broderick Mennings. I am a Council member. May I come in, Mr. Lupin?" the wizard said as Eloise appeared from the other side of the door, looking at him suspiciously, then eyeing the Aurors with dislike.

"You can come in," she said, "but those goons have to stay outside. They aren't welcome here. We'd like to keep what little we have."

Mennings eyed the woman. This must be the muggle the Council spoke of. The fertile werewolf bitch with full rights. The Aurors behind him scowled blackly at Eloise, who returned their scowl.

"They are with me for my…my protection," Mennings said a bit nervously.

"We're not going to bite you, Mr. Mennings. If you don't feel safe in our presence, then perhaps you should return to the Ministry," Remus said evenly.

The Aurors stirred slightly as Remus' statement. How dare a werewolf speak to a Council member in such a way?

"Lupin, we have every right to enter your home," one Auror growled at him, "That hasn't changed. Now you let the Councilman in and us…or there are going to be problems."

Eloise's eyes began to vein.

"This is my home too. And you can't come into my home without papers," she spat.

"This home is registered to Remus Lupin…not Eloise Hedgeberry," the other Auror said with a nasty smile, "This has nothing to do with you. You have no legal claim to this place. We can't enter your barn…but we can come in here. So I suggest you get out of the way."

Remus' eyes began to vein as well. Alarmed, Mennings moved out of the way and the two werewolves faced off with the Aurors, who drew their wands.

"Attacking an Auror is prison time, Lupin," the first Auror said, "Now lower your wand. We won't tell you again."

Remus stared at the pair stubbornly as Eloise began to growl.

"Go ahead and lower your wand, Remus," a female voice said behind him.

Everyone spun. Ursula Gabbingsworth and about twenty FOW members stood in the yard, eyeing the Aurors and Council members. Suddenly there was a flashbulb pop.

"Got it," Bilbo said, looking down and fiddling with his camera a bit before looking over at Rita, who's quick-quotes quill was moving a mile a minute.

"Hey!" One of the Aurors shouted at Bilbo, "Give me that camera!"

He started down the steps toward Bilbo, only to find the photographer blocked by several FOW members. He stood there impotently scowling at them.

"Freedom of the press," Ursula smirked at him, then she looked up at Mennings.

"We figured we'd better hang around. Mind if we come in, Mr. Lupin?" she said to Remus, though her blue eyes were narrowed as she looked at the Councilman.

Remus smiled with relief.

"Yes, you may all come in," Remus said, stepping away from the door, "You too, Rita…Bilbo."

The Aurors and Mennings moved aside as the group of supporters filed inside the farmhouse.

After they all passed, Remus said to Mennings, "Now you have plenty of witnesses. You shouldn't feel uncomfortable at all."

Mennings looked at the Aurors, who shrugged and shook their heads. They weren't about to strong-arm Lupin in front of witnesses.

"I need to speak to you privately, Mr. Lupin," Mennings said in a low voice.

"We can use the bedroom," Remus said, "Just the three of us."

"Three of us?" Mennings said, blinking.

"Yes. You, my mate and myself," Remus said, indicating Eloise, "Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of her. We both make the decisions."

Mennings looked at Eloise, whose eyes were hard as opals. Well, he had to talk to Lupin…the rest of the Council made that very clear when he drew the short straw.

"Very well," Mennings said resignedly, entering the house.

The Aurors tried to follow him. Eloise blocked their path.

"You still aren't welcome here," she said, slamming the door in their faces.

"That bitch," one Auror muttered as they both sat down on the porch to wait.

"There's coffee in the kitchen," Eloise said to the group in passing as she walked toward the bedroom, "And you can rummage through the pantry and cooler if you're hungry."

They thanked her and a few filed into the kitchen. Everyone made themselves at home. Rita waited for the bedroom door to close, then walked up to it…standing a bit to the right of it. She pulled her wand and cast an amplifying charm on it.

"Private? Not when I'm around," she breathed, the quick-quotes quill floating next to her in readiness.

* * *

Remus and Eloise both sat on Rubin's bed, leaving Mr. Mennings to stand uncomfortably before them.

"Now, what is this 'offer?'" Eloise demanded, frowning at the Councilman.

"Well, it is quite a generous offer, Mr. Lupin, for someone with your…your malady," the Councilman began.

"I'll be the judge of that, Councilman," Remus replied evenly.

Mennings was taken aback by this. He had heard Lupin was very quiet and retiring, someone they most likely could manipulate because he never wanted any trouble. But the wizard didn't sound very retiring to him. He sounded challenging.

"Well, we would like for you to turn the body of Fenrir Greyback over to myself and the two Aurors, and in exchange…"

Mennings pulled a rectangular piece of parchment out of the envelope.

"In exchange we are willing to give you ten thousand galleons," the Councilman said, "That's a fortune for a werewolf."

Remus and Eloise looked at each other.

"And what will happen to the rest of the reward?" Eloise asked him.

"It will be used by the Ministry," he said shortly.

What they did with the rest of the money was none of their business. They should be glad to get a chance to take ten thousand galleons.

Remus shook his head.

"No, I think not, Councilman," the wizard said, "The reward is a million galleons. I'm entitled to the full amount."

Mennings turned red.

"What would a werewolf do with so much money?" he demanded.

"Whatever he likes," Eloise snapped at the Councilman, "You don't seem to realize that we are werewolves for only one night of the month. The rest of the time we are as human as you are, and have needs and dreams like anyone else. Just because you people choose to focus on what happens to us once a month and use it to keep us down doesn't make our needs any less than yours."

"The Ministry is worried that you will use the money to…to push for legislation for your own gains," Mennings said.

Remus gave him a rather toothy grin.

"Ah, you mean financially back politicians who will make changes in the laws concerning werewolves…you know, that's not a bad idea. It is an election year…isn't it? I bet Ursula Gabbingsworth would be an excellent Councilman…or even Minister of Magic," Remus said, then looked at Eloise, "What do you think?"

"I think that sounds wonderful," Eloise replied, looking at Mennings who blanched.

"You should be worried. The laws are unfair. Period. We deserve the same rights as everyone else. That we are werewolves should make no difference," Eloise said to him, "If you are really concerned about your seats, then change the damn laws and stop trying to take what Remus rightfully deserves!"

"Ooh!" Rita cried out in glee, "Oh this is great…just great! Offering Remus a pittance because they don't want him to use his money to make changes. Front page, Bilbo!"

"I'm willing to offer you twenty-thousand galleons," Mennings said.

Both Eloise and Remus shook their heads.

"Thirty? Forty? You have to admit forty thousand galleons is a lot of money," the Councilman said rather desperately.

"Not compared to a million galleons," Remus replied, rising, "I think this discussion is over, Councilman. I will not accept anything less than the full reward."

"You're making a mistake, Lupin," Mennings snarled.

"It's mine to make," Remus said, walking to the bedroom door and opening it, "I will be at the Ministry tomorrow to claim the reward. Good night, sir."

Mennings looked at Eloise and Remus once more, then stormed out of the bedroom and through the crowd. He let himself out.

Rita was grinning ear to ear when Eloise and Remus emerged from the bedroom.

"Well, I've got my story for tonight," she gushed, "I'll be going now. See you on the front page, Remus. Come on, Bilbo."

Rita and Bilbo left quickly. She had to get the story written before the deadline.

Eloise and Remus joined their guests. Remus walked up to Ursula.

"Thank you so much," he said to her gratefully, "If you hadn't shown up, things could have become ugly."

Ursula nodded.

"We suspected the Ministry might try to get to you before you turned in Fenrir's body. Now that they know you are being protected, they won't try this again. Do you mind telling me what their offer was?" Ursula asked.

The FOW president's expression grew blacker and blacker as Remus and Eloise shared what Councilman Mennings offered them, then laughed as she heard she would make a good Council member.

"I'd have them hopping all right," she said, "They'd never have a quiet moment."

"Maybe you should consider running," Eloise said thoughtfully, looking at Remus, "You would have backing now, and I'm sure Rita Skeeter would keep you in the news."

The other FOW members began pressing Ursula to go for it.

"Now, now. You're all getting ahead of yourselves," Ursula said to them, "I don't know a thing about politics."

"That's why you'd be perfect. You'd be a representative of the people. All the people," Remus said, warming to the idea.

Murmurs of agreement rose up around her. Ursula gave a wan smile.

"First, let's get you settled, Remus. Then we can talk about other things," she said, "I do think you need to erect some kind of protection around the farm so no one can just pop in and surprise you."

Remus nodded.

"That is a good idea. I'll ask Albus to come help me. He's a wizard at that kind of thing," the werewolf said.

Ursula and the members of FOW stayed for another hour, then departed saying they had an early day at the Ministry and would be there to support him. Remus and Eloise thanked everyone and walked them out, watching them disapparate.

After they all left, Remus placed a very strong impenetrable ward around the farmhouse and returned inside with Eloise. He found her in the bedroom removing all the bedding from Rubin's large, soft four-poster bed.

"We need fresh bedding," she said, going to the closet and removing clean sheets and pillowcases, "but I think we should move Rubin's bed into the guestroom and get our own as soon as possible."

Remus watched her silently as she made up the bed.

The moment she finished, he strode up to her and took her in his arms.

"How did I ever live without you?" he asked Eloise softly.

Eloise gave him a smile.

"I don't know, Remus," she replied.

"I didn't," he said firmly, tightening his hold on her, "I didn't live at all until you came into my life. I just…existed. If it weren't for you, Eloise…I'd be skulking in the shadows someplace, hoping no one would notice me. Thank you."

"Oh Remus," Eloise breathed, kissing him soundly until he let out a growl.

"Let's go to bed," he said.

"Oh, are you sleepy, Remus?" Eloise asked him.

He gave her a wolfish grin.

"Not a bit," he replied, kissing her again.

* * *

**MINISTRY ATTEMPTS TO STRONG ARM REMUS LUPIN**

Councilman Mennings demanded Mr. Lupin hand over the body of Fenrir Greyback to himself and the Aurors in exchange for ten thousands galleons, stating that amount was more than enough money for a werewolf. Mr. Lupin refused.

The Councilman cited that the Ministry did not want to give him the million galleons for fear he would use it in the political arena to cause changes in the laws concerning werewolves. Mennings then offered more money to Mr. Lupin, ending his offer at forty thousand galleons, which was also refused.

* * *

Below the article, was a photograph of Remus and Eloise standing in the doorway with the Aurors' wands trained on them. Suddenly Mennings and the startled Aurors turned and stared at the camera with shocked expressions on their faces, then one Auror descended threateningly, shouting something. Under the moving photograph was the caption:

"Caught in the Act."

The crowd waiting and chanting outside the Ministry had grown to about two thousand people, many driven to the site because of the front page article in the Daily Prophet. That the Ministry would do something so underhanded enraged the public, and they all came out in force to make sure that Remus Lupin collected his reward. There were outcries from the crowd calling for the Council to step down.

About one hundred Aurors were on hand, standing on the Ministry steps eyeing the shouting, chanting mass of people.

"They'd better give Lupin his money," one Auror said to another, "Or we're going to have a riot on our hands."

"They'll give it to him. After that Prophet article, they have no choice if they want to keep their seats. And they still might lose them," his comrade replied.

Inside the Council chambers, Mennings was being browbeaten for his mishandling of the situation.

"How could you let yourself be caught on film, Broderick? You have to be the most inept, irresponsible…" Joseph Graham hissed

"Why didn't you go then?" Mennings shot back at him, "I told you all this was a bad idea. You have no one to blame but yourselves! Ten thousand galleons. What idiot would accept that in lieu of a million?"

"He's a werewolf, Mennings," another council member seethed.

"He's a fucking man, Jennings, who turns into a werewolf once a month! Once a month! He lives the same as we do," Mennings retorted, "They all do. Maybe they're right. Maybe we need to relax the laws and not punish them for being werewolves but for actual crimes!"

"What? You mean let them loose on society?" Jennings shot back at him.

"They're already part of our society, you idiot! Didn't you read the Skeeter woman's column about Fenrir Greyback? If the laws had been fairer, he probably wouldn't have become the killer he did," Mennings said, sitting down and pulling a handkerchief from his inside robes pocket and wiping his forehead with it.

"Those laws have been on the books for centuries," another Council member said, "Put in force for society's protection."

"Ennis, there hasn't been an actual werewolf attack outside of Fenrir, for many, many years. You have to admit they are law-abiding, even when transformed," Mennings said.

"Listen, this meeting isn't about laws concerning werewolves, but what to do about Lupin," another council member said.

Mennings leveled his eyes on the wizard.

"You are sadly mistaken if that's what you believe this situation is about, Charles. This is just the beginning. Did you see that crowd out there? Those are not only FOW members, but ordinary citizens. The same people who vote us in and out of office. The mistreatment of people with the Malady is out in the open now. No one knew or cared before, but now the public's conscience has been pricked. This isn't over…not by a long shot. We're going to have to address the laws sooner or later and if we want to keep our seats, it's going to be sooner. Where is the Minister?" Mennings said.

"He's not going to be here. He said we have to handle this mess since we created it. He's very angry…there are going to be repercussions, you can be certain of it," Jennings said sullenly.

"Just like him to separate himself when he should be standing with us," Charles griped.

"If I could separate myself from this fiasco, I would," Mennings muttered, "I say draw up the check and give it to Lupin. That's all we can do. If we don't, I guarantee that crowd won't be satisfied with just chanting…they might tear the Ministry down to the ground."

The members of the Council continued to argue among themselves until an Auror burst into the chambers breathlessly.

"He's arrived," the wizard panted excitedly, "Remus Lupin is outside, and he has the body of Fenrir Greyback with him!"

Outside the Ministry, you could have heard a pin drop. Remus, Eloise, Albus, Hermione and Severus had apparated to the very front of the building.

"No back door for you my boy," Albus said to Remus, who was dressed in his usual worn robes and run-over shoes. Fenrir's body and head were bound tightly in a sheet. Severus held his wand on the huge body, levitating it.

Every member of the crowd had his or her eyes glued to the immense body, the only sound that of frantically popping flashbulbs as photographers took photos. Everyone was silent as Remus walked to the base of the stairs and looked up at the Aurors.

"Do I need to enter the Ministry through the werewolf entrance?" he called up to the closest wizard, who shook his head.

"No, Mr. Lupin, you can enter through the front door," the Auror replied nervously. The crowd would have protested if the man who killed Fenrir Greyback was sent around back.

The werewolves in the crowd cheered, and the cheer was picked up by the rest of the crowd as the group walked up the stairs, Eloise on Remus' arm and Severus moving Fenrir's body along. Two Aurors held the doors open as they entered the Ministry building.

They were met by another sober Auror

"Please follow me to the Council chambers, Mr. Lupin" he said politely, leading the way down the long corridor and opening a pair of double doors wide, "Please go in. The Council is waiting."

Remus and Eloise entered first, followed by Albus and Hermione, Severus bringing up the rear, Fenrir's body floating level before him. The Council sat stoically at the long podium, every eye on the wrapped body.

A long table had been set up at the front of the chambers. A Ministry coroner stood next to it, his wand at his side. Severus floated the body to the table, lifted it slightly, maneuvered it over the slab, then let it drop with a heavy, meaty thud that made the council members jump in their seats. The Potions Master smirked slightly before joining Remus and the others.

"This is going to be quite entertaining," the wizard thought as he stared at the Council, "Quite entertaining indeed."

As they stood before the Council, Hermione felt a movement on her arm through her robes sleeve. She brushed at it a bit, not wanting to seem to be fidgeting. She felt it again, and turned her arm slightly.

There, clinging to the fabric was a small, black beetle.

It waved a foreleg at her.

Rita. Oh good gods. She must have been waiting for them in her animagus form and climbed on Hermione when everyone's attention was on Remus. Damn, the council had better watch itself.

"Mr. Remus Lupin, step forward," Charles Baggins, a red-haired red-faced wizard said soberly.

Remus walked forward and looked at the council, waiting. Every member focused on the werewolf, noting his shabby robes and run-over shoes.

"Surely Mr. Lupin, you could have made a better presentation. You knew you were coming before the Council. Your appearance is less than suitable," Baggins said, a disapproving look on his face.

"Perhaps I would have a set of nicer robes, sir, if those thieves you call Aurors would stop taking my money every time they visit me," Remus said evenly.

"Mr. Lupin, I find that hard to believe," Mr. Baggins said just as evenly, "I would think if you were being robbed you would report it."

"To whom? The Aurors stealing from me? Or the Department they work at? A report would never come up…and nothing would be done about it. Just like Ann Greyback's continued reports of thievery were never addressed years ago," Remus said, his eyes darkening.

Charles looked at the other members for help, but not one responded.

"We'll look into it, Mr. Lupin," Councilman Baggins said.

Hermione let out a snort, causing everyone to look at her. She met the twelve sets of eyes steadily. Severus shook his head slightly. Hermione was something else.

"Now we understand you claim to have killed Fenrir Greyback," Baggins said, looking at the wrapped body on the table.

"It is no claim. I killed him and his body rests right on that table in front of you," Remus declared, pointing at the corpse.

"Mr. Lupin, we have been after Fenrir for years. Tell us how you managed to kill him," the Council member asked.

"He came to Rubin's farm in search of my mate, Eloise Hedgeberry. She was in heat and we fought for her. Fenrir was trampled by a herd of cattle. Before he could recover from his injuries, I decapitated him," Remus explained.

"Decapitated him? With an axe?" Baggins pressed.

"No. With my teeth, sir. I was in werewolf form," Remus said, smiling slightly as all the Council members paled.

"A good story," Baggins said, his voice cracking a bit, "I believe you have witnesses to the fact willing to write a statement on your behalf?"

"Yes I do, sir," Remus said, turning slightly, "Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Potions Master Severus Snape and my mate, Eloise Hedgeberry," he said, gesturing to each in turn.

All the council's eyes fell on Hermione.

"And why is this witch here?" Baggins asked, narrowing his eyes at Hermione.

"Moral support," Hermione replied as if daring the council to try and remove her.

Baggins wisely decided to let the little witch be.

"Very well," he said as a clerk walked out of a side door with several parchments and quills. He handed a parchment and quill to each of them, including Remus. Hermione refused hers. She hadn't been a witness after all. Just a planner.

"Write out your statements, date and sign them," Baggins said, then watched as each took a seat on the long benches meant for visitors and placed their parchments on the wood and started writing.

Another clerk came in, carrying a small black leather covered box which he gave to Councilman Baggins. The wizard placed it in front of him. It ought to help smooth this mess over.

Everyone finished writing their statements and the clerk collected them and handed them to Baggins, who read them over and passed them to his fellow council members. After about fifteen minutes, Baggins collected them and handed the statements to the clerk to be filed.

"The statements seem to all be in agreement. Now to see the proof of your claim," Baggins said, nodding to the coroner.

The sallow face wizard pointed his wand at the sheet and flicked it. It began to unwrap. The folds fell back revealing Fenrir, his severed head resting above his huge body, the eyes staring at the ceiling and mouth pulled back in a grimace, his pointed teeth showing. Clotted blood covered the neck of his robes and flaked down to the sheet. Every council member blanched as the coroner lifted the head and examined it, turning the neck up revealing the torn flesh and bit of bone.

A council member gagged and ran from the room.

After a few minutes of careful study, checking the wizard's prints against those on file, he turned to the Council.

"This is definitely the remains of Fenrir Greyback," he announced.

"Thank you," Baggins said, his face pale, "Please cover him up and remove him from the chambers."

They all watched as the coroner neatly rebound Fenrir's body with the sheet, then levitated him. An Auror standing in the far corner opened the door for him and let him and the body through.

"Mr. Lupin, please step forward again," the Councilman said, his face set in stone.

Remus walked forward again.

"I hereby declare Remus Lupin has proven to this council that he indeed is the person responsible for the death of the wanted criminal and murderer, Fenrir Greyback. You have the gratitude of this Council and Wizard Society at large, Mr. Lupin," Baggins said.

He waited for Remus to thank him, but the werewolf said nothing. He knew this was just lip service, especially after what the Ministry attempted to do last night.

Baggins cleared his throat.

"There is a hefty reward for the capture of Fenrir Greyback, Mr. Lupin, in the amount of one million galleons," he said, pausing for the werewolf's reaction.

Remus didn't move. He just kept his eyes on the Councilman.

"This is quite a sum of money, Mr. Lupin, quite a sum. We are ready to offer you services, someone to help you manage it," Baggins said, "Someone who is quite experienced in handling such large amounts for those who are…are inept."

Wrong choice of words. Hermione started trembling, she wanted to speak so badly. Severus discreetly placed a pale hand on her arm, slightly shaking his head.

"I don't need any 'help', Councilman," Remus said, "I only need the money. Despite the fact I haven't been allowed to keep much of my earnings, I assure you I know how to budget."

"It is more than a matter of budgeting, Mr. Lupin. As you are aware, werewolves are not allowed to have bank accounts according to Gringotts standing policy which is in tangent with existing laws. What will you do with the funds? Bury them?" Baggins asked him, a nasty bit of mirth on his angular face.

The other council member tittered.

Albus stepped forward.

"If Mr. Lupin is in need of someone to hold his funds for him, I am quite prepared to do so, without the restrictions someone in the Ministry's employ would no doubt apply," the Headmaster said evenly.

The entire council frowned for a quick moment, trying to hide their displeasure, but it was clear to see.

"Very well," Baggins said, his voice thick as he rose and presented a piece of parchment, "Your reward, Mr. Lupin…all one million galleons."

Remus walked up and plucked the check out of his hand and read it.

"Pay to the Order of Remus John Lupin the Sum of One Million Galleons…G1,000,000"

It was signed by the Minister himself.

Hermione let out a whoop and flung herself on Remus, along with Eloise as Albus patted him on the back heartily. Severus stood back and watched them, his face sober. But he was glad for the werewolf as well. He earned it. Everyone deserved a second chance.

The council watched as Remus' friends congratulated him for a few minutes, then Baggins cleared his throat again. Everyone looked up at him.

"I have something else for you, Mr. Lupin," he said, offering the small leather box to the wizard.

Once again Remus approached and took the box.

"Something to honor your service to the Wizarding World. You are the first of your…kind to receive one," Baggins purred.

Hopefully this would make up for the snafu of the night before and appease the public.

Remus opened the box and looked down on the Order of Merlin Medal, First Class.

"The Order of Merlin," Hermione breathed, looking up at Remus, "The greatest honor a person can receive in the Wizarding World."

Remus stared at the medal for a moment.

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" he said cryptically, Hermione frowning slightly.

Remus turned and looked at Eloise a long moment.

"Come here and take my arm," he said to her.

Eloise walked over to him with a rather curious look on her face. Remus turned back to the Council.

"If you really want to give me an honor, then give me one that has real meaning. Give me the right to marry my mate, Eloise Hedgeberry, the wizard said as Eloise gasped.

"What?" she said, looking at Remus as if he were mad.

"Eloise, you are my mate for life, correct?" he asked her.

"Yes, Remus. Yes I am," she replied softly.

"Then for all intents and purposes you are my wife. I want it recognized beyond werewolf form. It would be my greatest honor," the wizard said sincerely.

Hermione looked over at Severus and met his dark eyes. She smiled softly. Remus hadn't proposed to Eloise. He didn't have to. They already had their "agreement." But it was still romantic as hell.

"Mr. Lupin, as you well know, werewolves are not allowed to marry," Baggins said uncomfortably.

"Why? Why is that, Councilman? Even if it were to keep them from breeding, you sterilize all the females anyway. Werewolves mate for life, but when one dies, whatever of value they have managed to scrape together is claimed by the Ministry, despite them having mates or children. It's unfair," Remus declared, holding Eloise's arm tightly. "I now have a legacy…and I want to be sure if anything happened to me, my mate will be taken care of."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin, but the law is the law. We cannot allow you to marry," Baggins said.

"Fine," Remus said, releasing Eloise and walking up to the bench. He set the box containing the medal in front of Baggins and walked away.

"Keep your medal. It means absolutely nothing to me," the wizard said, taking Eloise's arm, "I bid you all good day."

With that, Remus Lupin and his mate left the Council chambers, their heads held high. Albus followed as did Hermione. Severus paused to take one more look at the council, then smirked at them and walked away, his robes billowing.

When the door closed, not one council member said a word, but sat there in silence, each wondering what he could do to save his job.

* * *

Remus and Eloise appeared on the Ministry steps first and the waiting crowd fell silent as if holding their breaths. A group of goblins stood at the front of the crowd, not behind barricades. They too looked up at him with their clever faces.

Remus scanned the crowd, then reached in his pocket and pulled out the check, holding it high for all to see. A roar of approval burst from the crowd and wild applause as they hugged each other and jumped up and down before starting to chant the wizard's name. Remus repocketed the check and started down the stairs with Eloise. When they reached the bottom, the small group of goblins walked up to them.

"Mr. Lupin," one goblin said in a business-like voice, "We are representatives of Gringotts Bank. My name is Griphook."

The goblin offered his gnarled hand. Remus took it and shook it as Hermione, Severus and Albus joined them.

"We would like you to bank with us, Mr. Lupin. We provide excellent services," Griphook said, his sharp little eyes glittering, "We have changed our current policy. It was decidedly unfair."

Hermione snorted again. The only reason the little greedy bastards changed their policy was because they wanted that million galleons circulating through their bank and earning them more money.

Griphook gave her an annoyed look.

"It will gather excellent interest, Mr. Lupin and is the safest place in the Wizarding World," the goblin pressed.

The crowd was silent again.

"Is this just a special arrangement for me, or is it extended to all werewolves?" Remus asked the goblin.

Griphook studied him, then said with a bit of a sigh, "It is open to all werewolves from this day forward, Mr. Lupin. Any one of them can come down and open an account. Our policy of discrimination is over forever."

A loud cheer went up from the crowd, and Griphook turned toward them, then bowed, obviously drinking in their favor. This might be quite good for business among the general public as well. Maybe they could get a catchy slogan to cash in on their new policy.

"Well, if that's the case, Mr. Griphook, I will be delighted to open an account with your bank," Remus said warmly.

Griphook shook his hand again, more firmly this time.

"An excellent choice, Mr. Lupin. Now, if you will accompany us…we will take care of the details immediately."

Remus looked at Albus, Hermione and Severus apologetically.

"Go take care of your business, Remus. We will catch up with you later," Albus said, smiling broadly. Hermione was smiling too.

Remus met Severus' eyes.

The Potions Master looked at him soberly, then nodded in approval.

"It looks like you've finally arrived, Lupin. It certainly took you long enough," the wizard said…then offered Remus his hand.

The werewolf took it and shook it warmly.

"I guess you're going to miss that little extra money I paid you each month for wolfsbane potion," he said to Severus, who snorted.

"You seriously underpaid me anyway. I will be glad not to have to brew it anymore. You barely covered the ingredients," he said snarkily.

Remus chuckled and took Eloise's hand.

"Let's go, mate," he said to her, kissing her cheek, the crowd renewing its cheering.

Together the couple walked away with the goblins surrounding them protectively. Woe to anyone who had any ideas…they could be quite vicious when they wanted to be.

"There goes quite a man," Albus said, watching the couple.

Hermione smiled, then looked at her robes sleeve. Rita was gone.

"There's going to be quite a story in the Prophet tomorrow," Hermione said with a wicked smile.

"Yes. Remus getting the reward is big news," Albus agreed as they walked a little distance from the Ministry, preparing to apparate back to Hogwarts.

Hermione grinned at him.

"It won't be the biggest news, believe me," Hermione said, "Rita bugged the meeting."

Albus and Severus looked at her for a moment, not understanding. Then her meaning dawned on them. Rita Skeeter was an unregistered animagus. She must have snuck into the Council meeting. Albus laughed long and loud.

"Rita Skeeter. She really is quite an amazing woman," he said.

* * *

The next day the Ministry had an entirely new issue to deal with…the Werewolf Marriage Law. Owls were coming in from everywhere demanding to know why werewolves couldn't marry. A few also questioned the arbitrary sterilization of witches who had the malady.

A lot of changes were going to be made concerning werewolves. And the Ministry was feeling the displeasure of the masses. First off they discovered that the werewolf entrance in the back of the building was being systematically bricked off then warded powerfully so it took several hours to open it back up. This continued on for several weeks until the Minister said to leave it sealed and let the werewolves come in through the front doors like anyone else. Another small victory for werewolf kind.

Remus donated a generous sum to start a hospital in the werewolf village, and once it was known to the public more donations came flooding in. They were also able to build a school as well…for the younger children. Albus Dumbledore approached the Board concerning older children with the malady attending Hogwarts. He had snuck Remus in, but felt that he shouldn't have to hide these children and any parents who didn't like the idea could withdraw their own children and get them a second-rate magical education elsewhere. Remus also started a fund for their education as well.

Rita Skeeter helped immensely with this battle, keeping the Prophet full of controversial news and enjoying it immensely when some law or rule was changed because of her articles. She was rolling in galleons now, because anytime a new topic came up, Rita was the first reporter contacted. Barnabas Cuffe was delighted with her and Bilbo.

Severus presented Hermione with an engagement ring with a rock the size of Hogwarts. It didn't take long for word to get around that the couple was engaged. Both Ron and Harry showed up, insisting Hermione get checked for love spells or some other magical curse the Potions Master may have put on her. Severus was present and wands were drawn, Hermione having to intercede before the wizards blew each other to bits.

She talked to Ron and Harry privately and finally convinced them she was marrying the dark wizard of her own free will. Both of them shook their heads.

"Hermione, I guess smartness goes only so far," Ron said, "Marrying Snape. Gods. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine, Ron. I promise you. And Severus is good to me. You see the ring he gave me," she said, holding up her engagement ring.

"How'd he even afford that?" Harry asked her, "I know Hogwarts doesn't pay THAT well."

"He gets residuals from a few original potions and spells he created," Hermione said

Ron muttered something under his breath about Severus having stolen jewelry off the bodies of dead revel victims and keeping the items in a box someplace. He was lucky Hermione didn't hear him. She would have hexed him good.

"Let's go, Ron," Harry said, who had heard him and was worried that the red-haired wizard would make Hermione lose her temper. When that happened, everyone had to hit the floor or risk being hexed.

The two wizards promised to be at the wedding, but felt more like they were going to a funeral. Severus was delighted they were so put out by their engagement.

"They don't like the idea of my even touching you," he purred at Hermione, "maybe I should send them a blue pensieve showing them just what it is I do to you in the privacy of my bedroom…or yours."

Hermione looked at him in horror.

"Severus…you'd better not or I'll…" Hermione said, turning red.

"It was just a passing thought. I'm sure their own minds are torturing them well enough," he said to Hermione silkily, drawing her into him. He was about to kiss her when an amplified knock sounded on the door of his Potions office.

Severus scowled.

"Let me see who that is," he said to the witch, releasing her and opening the study wall.

He disappeared for several moments, then returned, followed by Draco Malfoy.

"Draco! What a surprise," Hermione said to the blonde wizard, who gave her a small smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Snape," he said to the witch who blushed.

"Not yet," Hermione said as Severus looked at her rather proudly, then walked over to the witch and drew her into his arms.  
Hermione was very embarrassed that the Potions Master was holding her so familiarly and possessively in front of Draco. Then she was shocked as Severus lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her passionately.

At first she struggled, but then his magic over her made itself known and she kissed him back. The hell with Draco.

Draco watched them kiss. Yes, this really was love…it was easy to see and to feel.

Severus ended the kiss.

"Will that do, Draco?" he asked the blonde wizard.

"Yes, Professor. That was perfect. Thank you. Goodbye, Hermione," Draco said shortly, turning and walking back through the open wall and out of the office.

Hermione stared at Severus.

"What was that about? Draco came here to watch you kiss me?" Hermione asked him incredulously, "And you did it?"

"Yes," Severus said obliquely.

"That's just…just disgusting. Suppose he wanted to see you shag me? Would you have done that?" Hermione asked the Potions Master.

Severus looked at her, his eyes glinting.

"Well, that would depend. Would you like to be watched?" he asked her softly, approaching her like a big cat. Hermione started backing away.

"No, of course not," she said, then Severus darted forward and grabbed the struggling, kicking witch. He started striding with Hermione toward his bedroom.

"Then, my dear…that particular act is for our eyes only," he said, walking into the bedroom and kicking the door closed behind him.

* * *

Hermione and Severus were married on the grounds of Hogwarts, the staff, students and a number of guests in attendance. Draco was among them and he had a small gift in his hands as he walked up to Severus before his nuptials. He handed it to the wizard.

"I guess this is it, old man," the young wizard said to him, then looked down at the box for a moment.

"This is my wedding gift to you and Hermione," Draco said, "But I have a request to make. That you open it when both of you are standing before Albus. I know it's a strange request to make, but I promise you, Professor, that it will make your wedding something to remember. Please do it."

Severus looked down at the gift, then at Draco. The wizard's eyes were pleading. But he didn't know what was in the box and what if it was inappropriate? It could ruin the wedding.

"I'm not sure about this, Draco…" the wizard began.

"It's for you, Professor…especially created with you in mind. Please trust me on this. It would mean a lot if you would allow me to do this for you and your wife," Draco said.

Severus sighed. He was probably making a big mistake doing this, but there was something so sincere in Draco's face that he capitulated.

"All right, Draco," he said, "But I swear to you that we will duel if this mars my marriage to Hermione in any way. Hexes will fly."

"Fair enough, Professor," Draco said, then gave him a bow and walked away to take a seat in the back.

Severus looked down at the gift in his hand, then the music began. He hurried up to the podium where Albus and Remus were waiting for him. Remus was his best man.

"Are you ready for the ring…through your enormous nose?" Remus quipped as Severus scowled at him.

"Shut up, Remus," he snapped as he took up his position and looked back at the tent that held Hermione. He watched as her father entered. The guests fell silent as the music began in earnest. They had gone traditional and the song was "Here Comes the Bride."

The curtain parted and Hermione and her father appeared, Hermione looking beautiful in a pale blue gown and a garland of pale blue flowers encircling her hair, which was loose, soft and curling. She carried a bouquet of pale blue flowers as well. Hermione looked so beautiful Severus caught his breath, his eyes softening with love as she marched toward him on her father's arm, her train trailing behind her. Eloise appeared behind her, in dress robes, smiling as she looked toward Remus and followed her.

"She's lovely, Severus," Remus said softly as he watched Hermione approach, then he looked down at the box in the Potions Master's hand, "Why do you have that gift? You shouldn't have that."

"According to Draco I should," Severus said, his eyes fixed on Hermione as she walked up to him, smiling softly as her father placed her hand in his, then patted the wizard on his shoulder before walking over to the first row and sitting down beside his tearful wife. Eloise stood on Hermione's right. Remus met her eyes and smiled.

Albus cleared his throat to speak, but Severus interrupted him.

"Ah Headmaster, could you wait a moment?" the Potions Master asked, Hermione looking at him as if he were crazy. Murmurs rose from the guest.

"Don't tell me the git is trying to back out," Ron said, frowning. Molly shushed him.

It was then Hermione noticed the gift in his hand.

"Severus, what is that?" she asked him.

"A gift from Draco…he asked me to open it just before our nuptials," the wizard said, pulling the bow. Suddenly the sides dropped and disappeared. A black orb spun in the wizard's hand for a moment before rising upward and falling back a distance, the darkness spreading before the audience.

"Oh Severus, this looks forbidding," Hermione breathed, wondering if Draco had given them something terrible.

Suddenly music began, and in the midst of the darkness a golden glow emerged, and from the glow a woman walked forward in a dark robe, carrying a single rose. Hermione recognized her. It was Malina Pascal. She began to sing and images of Severus were superimposed all around her, images of him alone, in battle and different locations, images that gave the impression of how dark and lonely his life had been

_A world so dark, the sun extinguished  
Lost, I had no place to go  
A tomb of silence screaming strongly  
pouring night into my soul_

Then an image of Hermione appeared, and the darkness around Malina began to lighten, the golden glow taking over as more images of the witch appeared, the images of Severus all beginning to notice her.

_and then the strangest thing occurred  
suddenly my song was heard  
through the gray a hope was raised  
drawing me into the day_

It was the equivalent of a muggle video featuring the couple, beautifully conceived. Severus and Hermione stared up at it, Hermione's eyes glistening with tears as the beautiful, meaningful song was absorbed into her soul. Severus' own eyes looked a bit wet, and he wiped at them with two fingers.

The scene was positively brilliant now, Malina's voice flowing over the crowd, touching every heart. Draco stared at the witch he loved, his eyes wet and heart full of emotion. Finally the song came to an end, Malina fading away and Severus and Hermione fading in, kissing each other passionately as the final verse was sung and softly ended in a haunting echo.

Then the image faded and there wasn't a dry eye in the audience. Even Ron had been moved.

"That song sounded as if it were written especially for you, Severus," Hermione said to him softly. Severus swallowed several times.

"Yes," he said hoarsely, "And it captured how I feel about you, Hermione…down to the final verse. I will never forget Draco's gift to us."

Severus looked at the Headmaster.

"Marry us, Albus," he said to the wizard, who was dabbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his white robes, "I can wait no longer to claim Hermione as my wife."

Albus did so and introduced the newly married couple to the crowd.

"I give you Mr. and Mrs. Snape!" Albus cried amid cheers, applause and a flurry of bubbles.

The bubbles were the Potions Master's idea. Severus thought he might be targeted with a bit of malice if the guests threw birdseed, particularly the students.

But you can believe, dear readers, that as the couple made their way back down the aisle and toward their new life together, there wasn't a dry eye among those who knew what a wonderful, magical gift true love truly is.

THE END

* * *

**Epilogue:**

Bartholomew's students did quite well on Severus' exam at the end of the year, though no one received perfect marks. Still it was quite an impressive showing.

Bartholomew sat in the rickety chair in the office as Severus picked up all the parchments he graded and handed them to his young assistant.

Congratulations. Not one student blatantly failed," Severus said to him soberly. You may take possession of my rooms in two weeks. You are now Hogwarts' new Potions Master."

Bartholomew stared at the wizard, flabbergasted.

"You're…you're leaving, Professor?" Bartholomew asked him.

"I certainly am. I've seen enough of this castle to last a lifetime. I intend to go into private practice and live a quiet life in the country with my wife. Start a family. Provided you manage to stay employed here you may find yourself deluged with my offspring. You'd better be well-schooled, because I assure you they will be," Severus said with a slight smirk.

Bartholomew could only imagine. Well, he'd keep up with the latest potions development. Whenever Snape's children came to Hogwarts, it wouldn't do to be shown up by first years.

"I will be, sir," Bartholomew replied with a smile.

* * *

Eloise and Remus were married in muggle England, then returned to the wizarding world. It caused quite a stir down at the Ministry when they filed their certificate of marriage, but Remus couldn't be arrested without infringing on the rights of Eloise.

Things became much better for the werewolf community. They were able to get better jobs now, though they still couldn't work for the Ministry. Not one wanted to anyway.

When the next sorting occurred at Hogwarts, five of the children were werewolves. Two were sorted into Slytherin, one in Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff got one each.

The children that were sorted into Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were immediately accepted by the other students. Ravenclaw were naturally a bit distracted by studies, so it took a little more time for the child to make friends. But she did.

The two werewolves sorted into Slytherin paired off. They really didn't care if not one student in that house liked them. They were here to learn and to be the best they could. They were as cunning, devious and self-absorbed as any other Slytherins.

Once a month they were moved to an open but warded area on the grounds to transform together. A small barn with fresh hay was kept available for them to sleep in, and Hagrid provided plenty of bones, balls and other items to keep them occupied. The giant soon found out he could enter the enclosure when the youngsters were transformed. They were well socialized with humans and so were not defensive, welcoming him with wagging tails and digging through his pockets to see if he had any treats.

One night, a young werewolf named Galen who worked as a dishwasher at the Three Broomsticks had become so involved in the evening rush that he didn't pay attention to the time. It was the night of the full moon and the young wizard transformed in the kitchen around the other workers, who screamed and drew their wands ready to protect themselves. Rosmerta hurried in and saw the transformed wolf, who sat down on his haunches, wagged his tail and whined apologetically at her. Rosmerta studied him for a moment, their eyes meeting. Slowly she walked forward.

"Careful Rosmerta," another dishwasher said.

Galen lowered his head as she approached, and Rosmerta stopped in front of him, and slowly reached out her hand, stroking his furry head, which rolled in pleasure. Rosmerta smiled.

"Put your wands away. Galen's going to have to stay here for the night," she said, petting the werewolf, "We can't let him loose. Someone might hex him."

The next day the streets were buzzing about a transformed werewolf staying in close proximity to humans without attacking. Of course Rita got hold of it and ran, tracking down witnesses and writing a column about it. It seemed the more werewolves socialized in open society, the better behaved they became on the night of their transformations.

Albus soon discovered students were sneaking out of the castle to the werewolf enclosure and actually playing with their fellow students, much as if they were playing with muggle dogs. There was not one biting incident.

The Aurors who worked for the Werewolf Control Department were reassigned and their office closed for good and the records sealed.

Eloise became pregnant almost one year to the day, and had a daughter. She named her Hermione after her first and best wizarding friend. For all intents and purposes, Hermione looked like any other child…but when the moon turned full…she didn't transform. Remus and Eloise were delighted.

Hermione was looked on with interest, and the healers at St. Mungos were permitted to examine her. It was found however that she did have werewolf blood in her veins. Everyone was puzzled as to why she didn't change when the moon was full.

They found out why after Hermione turned two years old and they found all her dolls gnawed and chewed, and the stuffing pulled out of her mattress and made into a kind of nest on the floor. But when Eloise and Remus entered her bedroom, Hermione was in human form. They looked around at the mess.

"Hermione, what did you do?" Eloise demanded, her hands on her hips.

"Doggie," she said, turning into a werewolf pup and scampering up to them. Then she turned back, "Me!" she said happily as her parents stared at her. Apparently, Hermione could turn into a werewolf whenever she wanted to…sort of like an animagus. Now instead of having big Hermione baby-sit little Hermione on nights of the full moon, Remus and Eloise simply stayed at home with her, the little girl transforming when they did.

* * *

Volaria graduated Hogwarts, topping out Hermione's marks and now was the brightest witch to ever graduate from the school. Hermione took it a little hard at first, but every Queen must fall. She enjoyed it while it lasted and she was still in the top ten. Voltaire turned out to be an exceptional young man, very bright and very kind. Especially to animals. He had a way with them. He was a quick learner and by the time he was twenty-five was on a level with any other wizard his age. He became a dragon-handler. He and Charlie Weasley became fast friends.

* * *

After about a year, Draco began to get back in circulation though he wasn't nearly as much a playwizard as before. Yes, he had one or two trysts here and there, but not with anyone he could invest his heart in.

He walked through Diagon Alley and stopped to watch a young witch painting. She had a number of paintings resting against a wall. They were all abstracts, most painted with bright bold colors. But there were a few monochromatic painting that caught Draco's eye for some reason.

He studied the witch. She was a brunette, about five foot five. The painting she was working on had a black background with a white flame curling in the middle of it. She stopped painting, putting the end of her brush into her mouth as she considered the work. Suddenly, with a few deft strokes, she put the silhouette of a woman inside the flame. Draco blinked at it, reminded of Malina when she first appeared to him in his dream.

"Excuse me," Draco said to the artist.

The witch turned to look at him. She had the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen.

"Is this painting for sale?" he asked her.

"The paint isn't even dry...besides...it's not completed," she replied, looking him over.

Rich, pampered wizard.

"Still, I'd like to buy it...as is," Draco pressed.

The witch scowled at him, putting her brush down.

"I told you it isn't completed. Just because your pockets are probably filled to the brim with galleons doesn't mean you can buy it. This is my art...my life. I won't sell any painting that isn't completed. If you really want a painting, look at the others...they're finished. If not..."

The witch shrugged and turned back to her work.

Draco noticed her robes looked a bit worn. She didn't look like she made a fortune doing this. Still she had attitude. Draco liked attitude.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Who's asking?" she retorted, not looking at him.

"Draco. Draco Malfoy," Draco said with a hint of a smile on his face.

"My name is Melissa. Just...Melissa," she replied, "And you are breaking my concentration, Mr. Draco Malfoy."

"How about I take you to lunch, Melissa?" the wizard asked her suddenly.

"How about you don't?" Melissa replied, "I don't have lunch with strangers. I'm not a quick pick up, Mr. Rich Wizard."

Draco scowled at her.

"You have quite an attitude," he said to the witch.

"You have quite the nerve," she shot back at him.

"Listen, if you don't go to lunch with me, how can I become something other than a stranger?" he asked her, "I assure you I'm not a masher."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not interested. Now if you aren't going to buy anything, stop taking up my time," Melissa said.

"Fine then," Draco said, walking off.

Melissa watched him go with a sigh. She didn't have to be so nasty to him. He might have bought something. But people like that always had it so easy, born with a silver wand in their mouths and flaunting it. She had to work hard just for her next meal. Her stomach growled. She really was hungry.

Melissa looked at the image standing in the flame, and suddenly was moved to add a bit of color.  
She dipped her brush and painted a tiny, perfect red rose.

Presently Draco came back.

"I'm back, Melissa," he announced.

The witch turned, about to apologize to him when Draco pressed a greasy bag of fish and chips into her hands.

"We can do lunch here then," he said with a smile.

Melissa looked at the bag. Gods, it smelled delicious.

"I love fish and chips. Thank you," she said, giving the handsome wizard a smile. If he ate food as common as fish and chips, maybe he wasn't so bad.

Draco looked at the painting, his gray eyes taking in the small red rose the silhouette held in her hands.

He knew it was a sign. It had to be.

"So Melissa," he said, peeling down the bag a bit to get at the fish, "Tell me about yourself."

* * *

Severus purchased a home in the country, buying a plot of land from Remus and having it built from the ground up. It was peaceful living. He also constructed his own lab, separate from the house, and spent hours there working on new potions and receiving clients.

Hermione graduated university with a degree in Potions and a minor degree in Charms. She and Severus argued quite a bit about the need for a degree. When Severus became a Potions Master, he had simply been given tests to check his level of expertise. But eventually someone had the bright idea to make a curriculum that had to be met before anyone could become a Master in any field. So…universities popped up all over, tuitions were paid, and elitists were created. Severus could brew circles around anyone these institutions created, including Hermione. He had forgotten more than she had learned. Still Hermione went for her Masters, then joined Severus in his work.

One day while squeezing pus out of a large bubertuber bulb, Hermione threw up. Severus looked at her. Hermione had been handling the stinky bulbs for years. He scourgified her.

"Are you all right?" he asked the witch, looking at her worriedly.

"I'm fine…my stomach's just been queasy lately," Hermione said.

Severus stared at her silently for a moment, then pulled out his wand.

"Stand still," he ordered, then passed his wand over her lower abdomen. He paused as the tip of his wand turned pink. He lowered it and stared at Hermione as if he'd never seen her before. Then he hustled her out of the lab.

"No more brewing for you. The ingredients can be dangerous," the wizard said, walking with her toward the house, then bringing her into the bedroom and divestoing her clothes.

Hermione gasped and covered up as if Severus had never seen her naked before.

"What are you doing?" Hermione said as the wizard collected a night gown out of her dresser drawer. He pulled it over her head and Hermione obediently stuck her arms into the sleeves.

"Making you comfortable. An expectant mother should be comfortable," he said, pushing her back until she sat down on the bed, then slipping her fuzzy slippers on her feet as Hermione stared at him.

"Expectant mother?" Hermione repeated with a dazed look on her face, "But…but how did that happen?"

Severus sat down on the bed next to her and kissed her mouth gently.

"Later on, I'll show you," he purred at her, "but for right now I want you to lie down as I prepare something for the nausea you're feeling. I think we should get a house elf to help you."

"No. No house elves, Severus. I don't want a slave," Hermione said.

"They aren't slaves, Hermione…free elves choose whom they want to serve willingly. Hogwarts is full of elves looking for good Masters. They are miserable without one. They want a home like anyone else," Severus said, "And I am going to get you one. You can rant all you like, witch. You are carrying my child and you WILL have help. I won't have you straining yourself. Now lie down. I'll be right back."

Hermione lay down stiffly in the bed. Severus smoothed her hair, then placed one hand on her lower belly, a strange look in his eyes. Then he looked at her.

"A child. A daughter," he breathed at Hermione, "I wanted a daughter. Thank you, Hermione."

He gave her a soft, lingering kiss and when he pulled back from her, Hermione's heart skipped because there was so much love in his eyes. He really was very happy. Hermione wasn't sure how she felt.

That didn't last long. Both Severus and the little house elf named Leafear that he acquired quickly learned Hermione had no problems expressing herself when she began to blow up like a little butterball. Dishes and hexes flew almost daily, Severus hiding out in the labs as much as he could. When Hermione wasn't screaming, she was crying, and when she wasn't crying, she was hexing, and when she wasn't hexing…she was randy as hell.

Severus was hard put to service the horny little witch in a way that satisfied her fully. Hermione liked it hard, but Severus was too concerned about the baby to shag her the way she appreciated. Hermione would burst into tears and say he found her disgusting, that's why he couldn't make love to her right.

Severus would immediately reassure her she was the most beautiful witch in the world to him, that the roundness of her body was pleasing to him because she was rounding because she was carrying his child, then he'd kiss her until she quieted and make love to her tenderly, talking to her the entire time, telling her how much he loved her. This worked for a while, but he had to continue to do this until the end of her term.

Hermione did indeed have a baby girl with dark hair curly hair and amber eyes. Her nose was a bit like Severus' but thankfully much smaller than his. She had his pale complexion as well. They named her Evelyn which meant "wished for or longed-for child."

Eleven years later, Bartholomew was taking role in his new first-year class when his eyes fell on a familiar surname. He looked up.

"Evelyn Snape?" he said to the students.

A pale hand rose in the air, and a soft female voice said, "Here sir."

Bartholomew looked into the intelligent face of his former mentor's daughter. She was a striking child, her amber eyes contrasting with her black hair and pale features.

"Welcome to my class, Miss Snape. I knew your father," he said to the little girl. She was a Slytherin.

"Yes, I know sir. He sends his regards and told me to tell you he hopes you brushed up," she said with a small, unpleasant little smile. Now he could see Snape clearly.

"Oh, I have, Miss Snape. I have," he replied with a smile of his own.

* * *

A/N: And I'm out of here. Thank you all for reading this long, long story. 


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